Broken Lands
by Angelustatt
Summary: Hell has literally come to Earth and no one is safe anymore. But in the midst of the madness, Dean is looking for his brother, unaware of just what Sam has become. Second Story in the Protectorverse series.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes : This is the second story in the Protectorsverse. You'll want to read Protector's of the Innocent to understand what's happened here. _

_Again, huge thanks and love have to go out to Tara, Hez and Mellie for prompting me to write this. Without you guys to kick my butt? It would never get done! And thanks to everyone who been reading my fic! I appreciate your feedback…it's like chocolate and Dean all rolled into one. Mmmm Chocolate Dean…there could be a market there. LOL_

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It was amazing just how easily a human body came apart, really. How fragile they were. Sam Winchester had never really considered it before. Sure, he'd patched Dean up countless times as well as himself. Watched Dean do the same for their father when he was alive. But he'd never thought about it with any great depth until he was up to his elbows in the blood and viscera of the man that had caught his attention.

From the back, he'd looked so much like Dean. The haircut, the leather jacket…and Sam's heart had soared. He'd run to the guy, spun him around and done the most girlish thing he knew Dean would have teased him about. He'd hugged him long and hard, tears in his eyes.

Because Dean was alive and he was whole…..

…And he wasn't here. It was just some dude that had been crossing the road that had a passing resemblance to Sam's older brother. The one that had bled out in his arms, choking on his own blood as he begged Sam to forgive him for being too weak to save him. For failing.

Sam didn't know what had happened after that. One minute he had been hugging this guy, the next? He was covered in his blood, literally. It was as if he had just torn the guy open like some meat filled scarecrow, screaming at Heaven or Hell or whoever was listening anymore, that he wanted his brother back. That it wasn't fair.

But who ever said life was fair? Sure as hell not the dead man Sam left behind as he walked away. Life sucked and Sam knew he had to resume his mission, the one that had been triggered by the loss of the only person Sam had ever loved with all his heart and soul. Even if it meant the loss of his soul in the process.

Sam Winchester was supposed to have led the demon armies against humanity. Now he would hunt down each and every demon and destroy them. For the family he had lost….for Dean.

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Mojo's Diner – Somewhere East of Allen, Oklahoma

"World's going to hell in a hand basket."

Sam looked up slowly at the voice, realizing he had been so ensconced in the paper lying in front of him, that he hadn't heard the waitresses approach. She was in her late fifties, blue rinse hair tucked under her little hat, her lipstick a shade too dark for her age, giving the woman—Ruth according to her nametag—a hard edge that didn't match her pleasant voice.

Sam let out a short amused snort and smiled lazily, the sort of smile that had always been echoed with one of Dean's in the past. "Looks that way."

"What can I get you, sugar?"

"Just some coffee thanks…unless you have a piece of pie or something?" Sam looked at her hopefully and was rewarded as the waitress tapped her pen lightly against her notepad and nodded.

"I've got a nice big piece of peach cobbler that's all yours, honey. Be back in a jiffy."

Sam's attention moved back to the paper once Ruth was gone. The story leaping off the front page came as no surprise to the younger Winchester at all. It had started a month ago, coma patients all over the globe waking up and walking away from the hospitals and hospices they had been in. Then they simply vanished. No one could explain or stop it. More and more were waking every day and anyone that suffered a severe head trauma was soon added to that list.

But Sam knew. It was all part of the Demon's plans for the end of the world. The children like Sam, the special ones the Demon had been triggering one by one….they were the Elite forces. But these coma patients? Each one of them was possessed by a lower demon. They were the grunts, the brute force that would be used for most of the wet work needed to bring humanity to it's knees. All the pieces were falling into place and when that happened, the end would come, swift and unstoppable.

Not that Sam cared about stopping it anymore. There was nothing left to care about except vengeance and he would have that whether the world burned or not.

"Here's your pie, sugar." Ruth had returned with one of the thickest slabs of peach cobbler Sam had ever seen. She smiled at him as she placed the pie and a large cup of coffee in front of Sam, then walked off to wait on another table.

Sam cut off a large slice with his fork and took a bite, closing his eyes in bliss at the taste.

"_Dude, what are you doing?" _

Sam's eyes snapped open, seeing Dean sitting across from him in the booth. He looked just the way Sam remembered him, smiling, his elbows resting casually on the table as he watched his brother. "You're dead."

"_And you're a dick. You think that would stop me watching your back, man?"_

"Go away, Dean, you're not real."

"_Not real? That's a hell of a thing to say, man. After all we've hunted, all we've seen, you're just gonna shut me out like that? That's cold, Sammy…"_

"It's Sam." He dropped his fork back to the plate, suddenly losing his appetite. " And You're. Not. Real." Sam looked pointedly at the figure before him.

"_Could be…if you want me to be. Think about it, Sammy. It be just like before. You and me, back together again, hunting, hanging out. Don't you want that?"_

"More than you know." Sam said softly. "But Dean's dead…you're only in my mind. Now go away." The figure faded away as Sam watched, feeling a lump forming in his throat, tears stinging his eyes. "I'm sorry, Dean…I miss you, man."

Sam sat there a little while longer, trying to pick at the cobbler and drink his coffee before he decided it was time to get going. He stood up and pulled his wallet from his back pocket, taking out a few bills and trying not to look at the stub that was tucked into one of the sleeves. It had been from some sleazy strip joint. Dean's idea of showing his little brother a good time after they'd had their asses kicked by a Revenant in Duncan, Oklahoma. It had seemed tacky at the time, but Sam had taken it in the spirit his brother had wanted and just sat back, drank some beers and forgot their problems for a couple of hours. It seemed stupid, but that stub now represented good times for Sam and further underlined his loneliness without Dean by his side.

Sam went up to the counter and saw Ruth standing at the register, smiling at him warmly. "Hey, uh, thanks for the pie and that. How much do I owe you?"

"Oh it's on the house, honey." Ruth informed him sweetly.

"On the - ? No…really, how much?" Sam insisted.

"I mean it, Sam Winchester. Your money's no good here."

A cold pit formed in Sam's stomach as he looked at Ruth and softly spoke the word. "Christo."

The effect was instant, Ruth's eyes becoming inky black, her smile growing. "It's the least I could do for one of our kind after all."

"I'm not your kind." Sam ground out, his hands slowly clenching into fists.

"Sure you are, sugar. You're one of the hand picked children. You're going to be at the forefront.."

Something popped in Sam's mind, as if a switched had been flipped.

Ruth's eager demonic fangirling of Sam was suddenly and brutally cut short as the diner exploded violently, glass and debris erupting through the fire and billowing smoke. Ruth and 8 other patrons were wiped out in an instant while Sam stood in the midst of it all, completely unscathed. He calmly walked through the flames and out of the wreckage of the building, hearing sirens in the distance.

Several people on the street watched in stunned amazement as the young man emerged unharmed and walked away as though nothing had happened.

"I'm never going to be one of your kind." Sam said darkly as he turned a corner. A metallic green Chrysler Neon was parked on the other side of the street. Sam wrapped his hand inside his jacket and punched it through the driver's window, unlocked the door and climbed in. It took him no time to hotwire the car, the stereo bursting into life with something irritatingly pop until he hit the search button and was rewarded with Blue Oyster Cult. It reminded him of Dean and the Impala and of better times. Sam was smiling again as he drove away, leaving behind the chaos and destruction he had caused.

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_Well, there you go! Sam's gonna get darker as the fic progresses, guys! Hope you like so far…_


	2. The Approaching Storm

It was the sound of Connor crying that awoke Skye. She sat up in the armchair, disorientated for a moment as she took in her surroundings and wondered why everything was dark? Reaching for the lamp beside her, the switch made a small click as it was flipped, but there was still no light. The tv Skye had fallen asleep watching was now dark and silent. No power at all it seemed.

Outside, a storm rumbled overheard, lightning crackling across the sky and lighting up the room briefly in a brilliant white flash before everything became black again.

Stumbling through the darkened house, Skye found her room, making her way to the portable cot only to find it empty. "Connor?"

Her heart picked up pace as Skye turned and felt her way blindly through the house, her way illuminated from time by lightning before the thunder would explode afterwards, rattling the windows and shaking the entire house to it's foundations. "Connor? Where are you?"

As she reached the room where Dean had been lying for the past week, Skye saw John pacing back and forth in front of the window, Connor curled up his arms. The scene was almost angelic looking as John's wings unfurled for a moment, then drew back in behind him as he looked over at Skye, a sheepish expression on his face. "Sorry, I thought I'd let you sleep a little longer before I came and got you."

Skye shook her head lightly, holding up a hand. "It's okay, I was just a little freaked with the power being out."

"There's a storm coming…" John's voice resonated in the room as he rocked Connor in his arms with ease, recalling a time he'd done the same with both his sons. His eyes glowed lightly each time the lightning lit up the room and Skye felt her breath catch in her throat, seeing the way he was looking down at Connor with such warmth and affection.

"Yeah, the thunder and lightning kind of clued me into that. Any change in Dean?" Skye went to the bed and sat down on it, taking Dean's hand in hers and wishing he would squeeze it back.

"No. Nothing yet." John was paused by the window, his back to Skye now as he watched the landscape outside.

Skye looked back at Dean and traced the line of his jaw with a finger tip. They'd been holed up in an old farmhouse miles from anywhere for a week since Skye had taken Dean from the hospital. There were no signs of change, nothing to give her hope that he would wake again at all. Except for John. He kept a constant vigil over Dean, rock solid in his belief that Dean would wake up…because he was Dean. He was a fighter, a soldier….a Winchester. He didn't know how to give up.

Another rumble of thunder shock the house and John crossed the room, holding Connor out towards Skye. A thick line of salt still surrounded the bed, protecting Dean and forcing John to stop just before it. "Here…take him."

Skye got up and gently took Connor in her arms, then laid him down on the bed beside Dean. The little boy immediately curled into the source of warmth next to him and Skye's throat tightened, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

"Stay behind the salt line." It was an order not a request.

Skye gave John a puzzled look. "What? Why?"

"Storm's coming." John nodded towards the window where thunder and lightning still crashed, rain pelting against the glass in a steady beat that spoke of high winds outside.

"It's already here..."

"No." John cut her off with the sharpness of his answer. "That out there? It's just the smoke screen." He slipped out the door, leaving Skye standing watching the storm outside with a growing sense of fear. A smoke screen for what?

John returned a few minutes later with an armful of supplies. He threw Skye a pump action shotgun, watching her catch it easily and cradle it. "It's full of solids. Blessed cold iron to be precise. Same with this…" John tossed Skye a forty-five automatic she instantly recognized as Dean's from the engravings along the barrel.

Next was a heavy leather journal, followed by a sharpie. The latter making Skye raise an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"I've marked the page you need. There's a set of protective sigils I need you to mark out within the circle of salt. It'll keep them from getting to Dean."

"Who, John? What the hell is going on?"

"Why do you think I made you get Dean out of that hospital?" John demanded, his wings unfurling to snap the air around him in an irritated gesture. He went to the window and stared out, lifting a hand to brush his fingers against the glass for a moment as he watched the rain trailing down in thick rivulets. "They want him. The other demons. They know that Dean's the key to controlling Sam. They're going to try and take him the same way they took all the others." His head snapped towards Skye, his eyes glowing faintly.

"The others?" Skye watched Dean for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He looked so peaceful, Connor curled up against him. The realization of what John meant was like a bucket of ice water in her stomach and Skye placed a hand to the bed as her knees threatened to buckle. "The coma patients…that's what's been happening to them?"

"They're the perfect vehicles." John stated without emotion. "Completely defenceless against possession. But not Dean. They're not getting him. Now taking that pen and start marking out the sigils on that page. Then double the salt line and stay in there, no matter what happens."

" What about you?"

" No matter what happens. You hear me?" John snapped, feeling a glimmer of satisfaction at the way Skye flinched. Good, that meant she was listening.

Skye did as she was instructed, copying out the sigils from the book, the sharpie squeaking softly as it traveled over the wooden floorboards. The salt line was next before Skye knelt on the bed, the shotgun in her hands as thunder exploded overhead with such a crack, that she almost missed the sound of the back door being kicked in. The whole house had been salted earlier that day…but maybe the storm had blown the protective line from the door, giving the demons the opening they needed.

Skye held her breath as the smoke like form snaked into the room and traveled around the bed, careful not to touch or cross the salt. It formed a shape that resembled a human figure if it could have been carved from smoke. The figure looked towards John and it's lips drew back in a strange facsimile of a sneer.

John faced it steadily, his wings spread out behind him, arms folded across his chest as he waited for it to make a move.

The figure cocked it's head and studied Skye for a moment, then drew a finger slowly across it's throat and gave the echo of a smile. John was on the move barely a second later, placing himself between the figure and the bed. "Get out."

The figure tried to slide past John, but found it's way blocked at every turn as John moved with lightning fast reflexes. "I said get out…"

With a silent snarl, the figure dissipated, leaving the room in a snake like trail before John allowed himself to relax just a fraction.

"Thank God that's over." Skye sighed, her knuckles white as she gripped the shotgun tight enough to almost leave crimps in the metal. Connor moved ever so slightly, cuddling in closer to Dean, one tiny arm splayed across his chest.

"It's not over. That was getting the layout of the room for the others. The first wave." John turned, a lightning flash illuminating his face for an instant.

"The first wave? You make it sound like some sort of video game!"

" Yeah…except you don't get another shot after game over, here." John gave Skye a dark grin. " Stay inside that salt line and shoot anything that moves….but watch out for me."

All hell broke loose a moment later as two men and a woman suddenly burst into the room, armed with knives and a pitchfork. John intercepted the older of the two men, locking his hands around the pitchfork and wrestling him backwards towards the wall.

Skye brought the shotgun to bear on the younger man as he skidded to a halt just outside the salt line and snarled at her. He was in his late teens, sandy blonde hair framing a face that would have been handsome except for the oily black eyes staring out. The knife in his hand flashed as he flipped it to grasp the blade, then threw it at Skye. Pure reflex saved her, the shotgun flying up to knock the knife away before it could bury itself in her flesh. A loud blast sounded a moment later as the shotgun discharged, a deep red wound blossoming on the man's chest before he crumbled to the floor.

Skye swung the gun towards the woman and fired, catching her high in the shoulder and taking off her arm in an explosion of red. The impact spun the woman away into the wall before she collapsed. Skye could feel the bile rising in her throat, her stomach rolling.

Connor was screaming now beside her, his tiny hands clutching at Skye's shirt, clinging to his mother in sheer terror.

From the foot of the bed, the blonde man staggered to his feet again, blood oozing from his mouth as he took a step towards Skye again.

"Take him down!" John bellowed, barely avoiding being impaled by the pitchfork before he grabbed his opponents head and gave a sharp twist, tearing it clean from it's shoulders.

Skye raised the shotgun again, her eyes as wide as saucers with fear as her finger snapped on the trigger and the blonde's head vanished in a cloud of blood and brain matter. The body slumped the ground instantly, a smoky form erupting from the stump of the neck and sinking into the floorboards.

John was ready for the woman as she got back to her feet shortly afterwards, her severed stump still losing blood at a rate no normal human would survive. He took her down the same way he had the older man, removing her head from her body with a brutal efficiency that reminded Skye he was more than human himself.

Skye clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, trying desperately not to throw up. All she could smell was gunpowder and blood, her ears still ringing with Connor's screams before she dropped the gun to the bed and scooped her son up in her arms. Murmuring to him softly, Skye rocked back and forth, trying not to look at the carnage before her.

John dragged the bodies from the room, ignoring the red smears that trailed across the floor. He watched Skye as he returned, his face impassive as she looked up to meet his gaze. "You can't hesitate with them. You take them down first shot."

" They're people, John."

" Not anymore. They've been possessed. The demons will use those bodies, keep them moving while they can. Only way to get rid of the demon inside is to make the body useless to them. It's not pretty and it's not something you should ever have to do….but it's the only way Skye. One of them gets over that line? And you, Connor…you're both dead. They only want Dean." John hoped he was getting through to her.

Skye held Connor a little tighter, horrified to think that her precious little boy was in so worthless to these demons. "Stop it."

" Why? Cause you don't want to hear it? It's the simple truth, Skye. You're not important to them, neither am I. But right now we're all that's standing between the demons and Dean. You have to be able to pull that trigger."

More footsteps echoed from the back of the house and John drew himself up, his wings spread as he charged out the door. " Stay behind the salt line!"

Skye tucked the shotgun in against her so she could hold it with one hand while she held Connor with the other. Her jaw was set now, fear being replaced with a determination to protect the ones she loved. Mama bear mode in full swing.

Two figures charged into the room. One of them appeared to be more mountain than man, a solid mass of muscle and hair wrapped in flannelette. Skye sucked in a breath sharply and pulled the trigger. The massive man ducked with a grace that surprised Skye and jerked something out from behind his back. He had one of the bodies from before, the older man's it appeared….and he flung it across the floor, Skye swearing loudly as the body slammed into the foot of the bed, breaking the salt line.

John was in the doorway in the next instant, launching himself at the large man and wrapping his arms around his waist in a bear hug as he tried to pull him back out of the room. His wings swirled out to try and steady him as the huge man spun and threw himself backwards, slamming John against the wall behind him.

Skye heard the air explode from John's lungs and winced at the sound of ribs cracking.

A hand locked hold of Skye's hair, wrapping it around and dragging her from the bed. Skye was barely able to detach herself from Connor to save him being pulled with her, her hands flying up to try and pry herself from the iron like grip that held her.

Her attacker was wearing blue striped pajamas and in one moment of pure insanity, she was reminded of Arthur Dent and wondered where his towel was?

A knife swept down towards Skye's chest and she was forced to let go of her hair to try and block the attack. One hand locked around the blade, feeling it bite into her fingers while the other grasped her attacker's wrist and tried to push the knife away.

Blood was welling up from the numerous wounds as the blade sliced in deeper, causing Skye to gasp in pain. She held on, her grip slipping, watching as the knife dropped closer to her throat.

Behind her, she could hear John yelling, clawing and pounding his fists into the massive man that still had him held against the wall.

A gunshot rang out and Skye flinched, blinking as her face was suddenly awash in blood. She dropped to the floor, freed from her pajama clad attacker as he collapsed with half his head missing. Skye rolled and looked towards the bed, her heart stopping in her chest at the sight of Dean kneeling up with Connor held against his bare chest, the shotgun gun held firmly in the other.

John sagged to the floor, one wing hanging broken as his attacker turned and fled now that Dean was awake.

The room became quiet other than the soft sobs from Connor as well as Skye and John's ragged breathing.

" Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?" Dean demanded, turning the gun to cover the thing with his father's face.

" Dean?" The name wasn't so much spoken, as slipped out like a breath of air. Skye couldn't believe she was seeing him there, that he had just saved her, Connor…everyone really, just the way he always did.

But as she watched, she could see the fire leaving his eyes, a tremble setting in his body before he sank back down to the bed, still holding Connor, although the shotgun was starting to waver now.

Skye was on her feet quickly, rushing to the bed and catching him, carefully allowing him to lean against her as the rest of his strength faltered and gave out. " It's alright…it's okay, Dean. I've got you."

For a moment, Skye expected to see Dean pass out again. He looked so drained, so confused by everything. "Where's Sam? Where the hell's my brother?"

Dean looked straight at Skye, expectantly. His brow knitting with concern as he received no immediate answer.

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_So…how's that for image? Shirtless Dean? ;-) Hope you guys are liking this so far? _


	3. Home Is Just A Word

_Author's Note: Sorry this chapter is short…the later ones will be longer, promise! Hope you guys are liking this so far….._

_This was written before the finale and I'm curious now as to what sort of power Sam would have really had? I mean, we only got a taste of them from Ava and Co... as always, feedback is love, cherished and adored!_

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The thick line of smoke could be seen for miles. Sam had been driving for days, as if on autopilot. The music had been pounding, keeping him from thinking too much…because if he started to think, he started to remember, started to see Dean in his mind and that was such a fresh wound still. Driving him forward, without really giving him a direction to head in.

Until he found himself passing a sign that said Lawrence, Kansas and realized he'd gone home.

That was a stupid word, really. Home. What the hell was home anyway? A house? Sam had lost that before he was old enough to even comprehend the word. A place where your family was? If that was the meaning of the word…Sam's home should be a cemetery.

Home meant nothing to Sam anymore. Not without Dean. The world itself felt cold, empty and hostile without Dean sitting next to him, howling out the lyrics to Enter Sandman and drumming his hands to the beat. Sam felt like he was missing a limb…as if he had forgotten how to breathe properly or his heart no longer beat in the correct way. Because it hurt! It hurt so much not to see his brother there….and now the only way he was able to stop the pain, was to kill every demon he found.

Like the one that had been hiding inside a young woman who approached him in a bar three days ago. She had been so beautiful, barely a day over nineteen Sam had thought at the time, wearing a pair of Daisy Dukes and a flannelette shirt that had more than likely come from her father's closet.

Dean would have been drooling the instant the girl entered the bar…and he would have cheered Sam on as she led him out a side door, back to where he had parked the Neon.

But Dean wasn't around to compare notes in the morning, or to watch Sam's back when the girl revealed herself to be a demon the moment Sam kissed the soft lobe of her ear and whispered, "Christo."

She'd pulled away, her nails trying to claw Sam's eyes out, one finger leaving a shallow groove down Sam's right cheek that had taken a moment to bead up with blood.

With a wet, sucking plop -- the sort of sound you could imagine a steak making if it was thrown at a wall -- the girl exploded suddenly. The back seat of the Neon was awash with her blood as Sam fumbled for the door handle behind him, falling out on his ass and turning to empty his stomach a moment later in the gravel parking lot. Not because he though the girl didn't deserve it…it was a simple reflex to the blood and gore that he was covered in. He had to be stronger than that now. Sam needed to be strong for Dean's sake. He owed him that that much.

Sam glanced in the rearview mirror now as he drove through the empty and abandoned streets of Lawrence, a small strand of auburn hair with a swatch of scalp still attached, was tucked into one corner of the rear window. Damn, Sam had thought he'd cleaned the Neon properly…well that was that, he needed a new car now. If it continued to get warm like it had been, the car would soon start smelling.

Pulling over to the curb, Sam shut down the engine, climbed out and walked away without so much as a backward glance. There wasn't a sound on the streets except for the occasional car or shop alarm in the distance. The streets were littered with trash, smoking cars and other debris. Storefronts had been smashed in, perhaps by looters…or by whatever had come through here? Sam could feel it in his bones, throbbing like a bizarre biological bat signal. It was a summoning, a call to arms by the demon world to overthrow the earth and claim it as their own. Whatever it was, Sam wasn't obeying it. He was using it to track down the demons now, follow them to wherever they were gathering so he could wipe them out in one fell swoop. Ruth, the girl at the bar….they were only the beginning, appetizers to awaken what Sam could do and allow him to hone his power.

They'd all burn for Dean. Every last one of them.

Slipping through the streets of Lawrence, Sam wondered if there was anyone left now? It was so quiet, so abandoned. He was beginning to wonder if they had all simply run off when he stumbled across a store with it's owner lying dead in the doorway. He'd been dead a day or so at least and was beginning to bloat.

Sam grimaced at the stench and crossed the street. Two blocks from there…he found a church where the stench was even stronger. A thick cloying scent of death that hung like a wreath around the place. As he moved in to investigate, Sam was stunned to see the church was full of bodies. People had obviously poured in here in desperation as the demons began to over run the town. But holy ground hadn't been enough to save Pastor Jim…and a last minute stab of conscience would never be enough to keep the demons from slaughtering everyone here.

A chill ran down Sam's spine as he thought about how different his life would have been if the demon had never come into his nursery that night. Would he be one of the bodies here in the church? Huddled together with his mother, father and brother? There were entire families here that had killed trying to protect each other.

An anger began to build up in Sam again as walked back to the street and found a car, drained the gas from it, then went back to the church and began dousing the bodies before he burned them. He wished for a moment that he could have salted them too…to give them complete peace. But maybe it no longer mattered?

There didn't seem to be much point to peace in this world anymore…..and as Sam watched the church become engulfed in flames, he couldn't help but wonder if God had abandoned them all?

Two stops remained for Sam in Lawrence. He paused outside his family home, his mind vivid with memories of how they had saved Jenny, Sari and Richie. How their mother had appeared and saved Sam, sacrificing herself in the process.

It seemed to be a real thing for the Winchesters…sacrificing for each other. Mary had burned to save Sam, John had died for Dean…and Dean died because he wouldn't kill Sam.

And it royally sucked….all of it. Because Sam had no one now.

He approached the front door and considered knocking, then paused, his hand not quite hitting the door before Sam realized that Jenny and the kids were probably long gone. Or they were dead too and that was something Sam didn't want to see.

Moving on, Sam headed for his final destination. The house had apparently been burnt at some point, only smoldering ruins remaining. Sam picked his way through them, looking for any sign of life, before he sensed a presence behind him. Without even needing to turn, Sam flung them against one of the remaining walls that was still standing, holding the person there as he turned, a cool smile appearing at the startled look on their face.

"Oh, honey…what have they done to you?"

"It's nice to see you too, Missouri." Sam said softly as he continued to hold her in place as easily as he would a fly.

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	4. Hurting

" This is going to need splinting." Skye informed John as she carefully bandaged his broken wing. It was right at the top of her weird crap-o-meter, that was for sure. The occasional scraped knee or cut finger was the usual first aid Skye had to administer, not strapping up the wing of some half demon hunter that once upon a time might have been her father in law had things worked out differently.

" Just do what you can with it. It'll heal…" John shrugged, then growled as the movement sent a spark of pain through his shoulders. He was healing faster now than he would have ever done as a full human, but the pain was still there in all it's glory.

They were sat in the living room now, the tv playing softly in the background while Connor was sat before it, transfixed by what was on the screen. Power had come back a little while after the demons had left, the storm breaking down to finally allow some blue sky to creep through.

" It would heal a lot faster if you stopped moving and let me set this right." Skye frowned.

" I'll stop moving when you get a better bedside manner." John grumbled.

" There's nothing wrong with my bedside manner. I'm just a lousy vet. " Skye winked at John. "Alright…that should support it for you, just try not to use it." She patted John's shoulder as she got up and went to the front screen door, looking out into the yard. There was no sign of Dean. He'd brushed her off the moment he'd found out that Sam was missing, stumbling outside and sitting down on the porch for a little while, before he had wandered off in the direction of the barn where the Impala was parked.

" Do you think I should go and talk to him?" Skye asked, still staring towards the barn. " He's not himself yet, John…he shouldn't be alone."

" No, alone is what he needs right now. Dean needs time to find his balance, reset himself. No one can do that for him. All we can do is wait." John stated matter of factly. " Sam is the one for talking…not Dean."

Skye nodded, feeling helpless. Time was something they didn't have, but it was everything they needed right now.

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Why was he alive? It was the question that kept rolling around in Dean's head over and over. Like a mantra or a steady pounding of a hammer against a sheet of steel. Making his head hurt, making him crush the palm of his heels into his eyes.

In those moments as he lay bleeding out in his brother's arms, Dean had felt a sense of peace despite his fear of leaving Sam behind. Because there had been nothing Dean could do, he was dying. It was over. He'd failed and the world was going to bleed because of it, but Sam was still alive and for Dean that was what mattered. He hadn't taken his brother's life, hadn't honoured what both Dad and Sam had made him promise to do.

Because Dean couldn't do it. Not to Sam. Never to Sam. He was supposed to protect Sam, save him…or die trying.

Now it seemed even that wasn't enough. Dean was back in the land of the living again. Why? Why wasn't he done? Why wasn't he allowed to rest? Hadn't he paid enough? Done enough? When was it ever going to be over? When he killed Sam and put a bullet through his own brain before his brother's corpse was even cold?

Was that what it would take for Dean to finally stop?

He felt damned. Condemned. And it seemed he had condemned everyone he cared about too. His father was some sort of half breed bastard now….although Dean could take one look at those eyes and see it was really John. Part of him wanted to be so happy his father was back and that he wasn't suffering in Hell. But how could he be happy, knowing that his father was now some half demon creature because he traded his life for Dean's? Just handed it over in the hope Dean would save Sam….only to have him fail? How could he ever trust him, either, knowing there was demon in the mix?

And then there was Skye and Connor. They'd become targets in this war now, all because Dean was stupid enough to let his guard down and let Skye in. Everyone around him paid in some form. He really was cursed….

Dean was just standing in the barn, looking at his Impala, his baby. His home for most of his life. She was immaculate and Dean knew he'd made the right decision in leaving her with Skye while they were on the run.

He'd been given back his car, his father, even the woman Dean thought he might actually love….in exchange for Sam.

It wasn't a good deal.

The familiar creak as the driver's door opened, felt like coming home. It was like walking into the family home after years of being away and finding things the way they had been when you left. She smelt clean, the warm scent of Amour-all coming from the leather interior and wrapping itself around Dean, evoking memories of summer days spent with his father, learning the care and detail that went into looking after a car like this. Sammy would be sat on the grass outside their cheap ass run down house that was home for the better part of a year and for a little while, things would be good. Almost normal with Dean and Sammy going to school while Dad worked servicing hire cars and went on the occasional hunt. They'd be a family and life was good.

Now? Now Dean didn't know what to think anymore, what to hope for.

Reaching out, Dean let his fingers slide over the dashboard of his Impala, light and reverent, like he was touching a woman. Ever so slowly, his fingers curled in on themselves until his hand was a fist, before it smashed into the dashboard, the steering wheel, the door beside him. The skin bruised, then split, blood spilling as Dean continued to punch and punch, making himself bleed, making his car bleed before he broke down completely, silent sobs shaking this shoulders as Dean rested his head against the steering wheel.

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Sometime later when Dean came back into the house, he was silent, walking past everyone and heading straight for the bathroom where he locked the door behind him. It was another twenty minutes before he surfaced with his knuckles tended too and the blood washed away. Skye's heart sank as she saw the way his shoulders were hunched, as if Dean was trying to fold in on himself. He moved to the living room and curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the tv and ignoring everyone around him.

Skye leaned in the doorway and watched him, wanting to talk to him, broach the subject of Sam again or just see if she could get something to register in those green eyes that had suddenly lost their lustre. He wasn't the Dean she knew. He was broken, shattered, a shell of the proud, cocky hunter that had come to her rescue. Without Sam…there was no Dean. It was if the heart and soul had simply been sucked from him. The purpose. Dean didn't know who he was without Sam, without his job of guardian and protector.

Drawing in a shaky breath, her chest feeling as though it was constricting, fighting for air, Skye had to back away. Connor was sat by the tv, looking over at Dean from time to time, a curious expression on his face before he got to his feet and wandered over to Dean, offering him a yellow plastic pick up truck to play with. Dean didn't even register Connor's presence and after a moment, the child turned away with a little frown and walked back to sit down on the floor again.

Skye teared up and spun on her heels, fleeing for the bathroom, brushing past John on the way and mumbling an apology before she slammed the door and locked it. Skye walked to the mirror hanging over the basin and looked at her reflection, seeing the tears in her eyes, how tired she looked. This past week had taken a hell of a toll on her and all she had hoped for, was that Dean would wake up. She needed him. Needed that presence, that self assuredness he always had about him that things would be alright, because he wouldn't allow them to be anything else.

Leaning closer to the mirror, Skye saw a line of blood along her hairline she hadn't seen before. There was no wound there….it wasn't her blood. It was from the guy who had been trying to kill her before Dean took off his head with a shotgun blast. It was blood she had missed during her initial clean up after the fight. Skye felt her stomach roll at the thought of that guy still being on her and she had to take a few deep breaths to fight off the urge to vomit. Instead, she turned on the shower, stripped off her clothes and climbed under the steamy hot water, letting it scald her skin as she scrubbed her fingers through her hair, seeing the water turning pink. The water was biting into the wounds on her hands, the cuts she had been forced to allow John to sew up. Each finger on her right hand now had two or three tiny stitches in it, a testimony to John's skills. You'd never truly seen a strange sight, until you found yourself on the receiving end of medical attention from a six foot plus birdman who's bedside manner involved telling bawdy bar jokes to distract you from the pain. A strangled snort left Skye's lips and she slipped to her knees, pulling them up against her chest and rocking as she cried. How had her life become this? How was this any sort of life for Connor?

But as scared as she was of the future and what it held for the people she cared for…Skye knew she was safer here than anywhere else in the world right now. All day, the tv had been talking about reports of towns being found filled with bodies, communication across the globe was beginning to collapse, people were starting to panic in the streets as more and more strange things happened. Bloody rain, fish dying by the millions as the seas began to warm, even boil in some areas. Animals were unsettled.

It was the end of the world on their doorstep and the one person Skye needed right now, was lost to her.

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_Author's Notes: We're going back to Sam next chapter and you'll get some backstory on what happened at the barn. Hope you guys are still enjoying and thanks for the feedback!! _


	5. The Bitter Truth

_Author's Notes : This is not a happy chapter, but it was vital to explain the back story from Protectors. Hope you guys are still enjoying this. The next Chapter will be up soon and I promise it will be lighter than this one. _

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Missouri Mosley was not someone who was easily surprised and even as she was held to the wall with an ease that one of the damn Jedi Knights in those sci-fi movies would drool over like a big damn dog, the only thought she had, was that Sam shouldn't be that powerful yet. She'd known for some time that the demon children were starting to fully develop their powers, that they were all unique for what they could do….but Sam had always been special. He had always been destined for something more, to be a leader…and his powers had adjusted accordingly. Sam was the most powerful of them all and with the right training, he would be utterly devastating on the world.

It was what John had wanted to prevent. Missouri had watched the fight leave the proud hunter when he had found out the truth of what the Yellow Eyed Demon wanted with his youngest. It had almost broken the man. It was the fact that he knew his boy, knew intimately what sort of a man Sam was, that John had any hope at all of stopping it from happening.

Pinned the wall of what used to be her house, Missouri wasn't so sure that John had been right to hope. The boy standing before her, staring at her calmly, his head cocked to one side as if he was figuring out what she was….wasn't the Sam she had met in the past. That Sam had been so unsure of what he was becoming, what was happening to him. But he'd been sweet and kind and still full of hope for his future.

The Sam standing before her now, was dark and hurting and had lost all hope of anything. The boy was bleeding inside, scarred to the bone by what he had seen, by what he had lost.

" Sam. Sam, honey…let me down. Let me help you. You don't want to do this." Missouri spoke softly, her voice full of compassion.

Sam laughed, the sound sharp and bitter, making Missouri flinch. " Don't want to do what? Get answers? Find out why you're alive when everyone else is dead? Why you're alive when Dean is dead?"

"You already know the answers, Sam Winchester! You plucked them out my mind the moment you pinned me up here, so quit fooling around. You want to kill me? You want to be like those demons? You go ahead, sugar, but don't you ever play me for a fool!" Missouri snapped angrily before she backed off and her voice softened again. " I'm not the enemy, Sam. You already know that."

Without warning, Sam released her and Missouri stumbled for a few steps before she found her balance again, pausing to brush down her clothes. Once she had straightened herself out, Missouri looked up at Sam and took a step towards him. " Sam, honey…"

Sam backed away, his brow dissolving into a scowl. " Don't. Don't touch me. Just…just stay away, Missouri. Please. You've no idea what I've done…what I've seen." He dropped his gaze to the ground for a moment and when he finally brought it back up to meet Missouri's, she saw tears forming. " What I've become…"

" Then show me, Sam. Let down the walls and let me in, sugar. You don't have to carry all this alone…"

" You should sit down." It was all Sam said before Missouri felt a surge as his mental barricades came down and she was assaulted by a tidal wave of emotion, pain, guilt, anger and fear. She staggered back and sat down heavily on a small pile of rubble, her hand flying up to her forehead as she gasped in shock. " Oh Sam….Sam…."

Sam simply watched as Missouri's face creased up in pain at what she was seeing, the beginning of the end for him…

" _Are you sure you don't want some more sweet potato, Sam?"_

_Sam shook his head lightly, holding up one hand, a warm smile gracing his lips. " No thanks Mrs Morgan…I'm fine, really." He went back to his meal, while Dean politely took the bowl of potato and continued to heap food onto his place. Sam was amazed at how much food his brother could put away in a sitting, especially home cooked food. Once the plate was piled to Everest proportions, Dean took the gravy boat from the center of the table and drowned his meal in thick, brown gravy that looked every bit as good as it smelt. _

"_Now you boys sure you won't stay a few more days? We've kinda gotten used to having you around these last couple of weeks." Anthony Morgan watched both Sam and Dean as they ate, noting the looks shared between the boys, the silent communication that was happening before him. _

" _No sir. It's not that we haven't enjoyed staying here and helping you, but it's just getting too dangerous. We can't run the risk of anyone finding us here." Dean answered politely. " We wouldn't want to put you and family at risk anymore than we already have." _

"_Aw hell, boy, you ain't putting us at risk. You know just how many hunters we've had through those doors over the years? Hell, even your Pa stayed for a week, back when you boys would have still been knee high to a grasshopper. If you need to lay low, you stay as long as you need. I've really appreciated the help you've given me round the place to be honest and I reckon Kathy and Tyler have loved the company." Anthony looked at his wife and daughter sat at the table with them, smiling as they both nodded. _

_Again, Dean and Sam shared a look, a whole conversation happening without a sound, before both boys nodded quietly and Dean spoke. "We appreciate that. Thanks. It's been nice to not have to look over our backs every five minutes for a little while. But it's just too risky. I think it's best we hit the road tomorrow." Something was building, the whole hunter community becoming nervous as the signs increased. Omens, demonic possessions had trebled in the just the last few weeks. Dean didn't want to head back into it with Sam, putting his brother back on the frontline again. He'd have rather just dropped off the map for good and tried to ignore what his father had said before he died. But that wasn't an option and both Dean and Sam knew it. Staying with the Morgan's was only endangering them now. _

"_Hey Dean, you gonna finish showing me how to play poker?" Tyler Morgan asked brightly. She was twelve years old and reminded Dean way too much of that chick off Little House On The Prairie. All braces, bubble gum scent and plaits that hung down over her shoulders. Tyler had followed the brothers around since they had arrived, taking a real shine to Dean that Sam had teased his brother about mercilessly. She was a sweet kid and the look Dean received from her father after that question, told the hunter he'd be wise to backpedal. _

"_How about we play trivial pursuit?" Sam stepped in, saving his brother who was currently coughing around a mouthful of food and thumping his chest with his fist. Dean gave a shaky smile, his face red, eyes watering as he nodded and gave a strangled, "Sounds good…"_

_Everyone was laughing quietly, when the lights in the room began to flicker suddenly. Instantly, Dean and Sam dropped their forks, as Anthony began to rise from his chair. "Boys...I'll check the salt lines around the place, you stay with Kathy and Tyler." _

"_Yeah, stay boys, we've got some talking to do." It was Tyler's voice, but as the young girl raised her head to look at Sam and Dean, they saw golden eyes staring back at them. Anthony Morgan suddenly gasped, then began to making a wet, thick choking sound as his own steak knife was raised, then slid across his throat. Blood gushed from the wound as the man slid back down in his chair, clawing futilely at his throat before toppling face first over his dinner._

_  
Dean and Sam were flung backwards, their chairs hitting the floor as they were pinned to the wall behind them, unable to move as Kathy Morgan's terrified screams were cut short by a knife flying up from the table to plunge into her eye. The woman rocked back in her chair and stopped moving._

"_You son of bitch!" Dean growled, struggling to pull away from the wall. Sam was fighting a losing battle himself, horrified at what he had just seen, terrified that his brother would be next. Because the Demon had no use for Dean at all…he only wanted Sam._

"_Dean, Dean, Dean…you're always so hostile. I'm starting to think it's something personal..." Tyler gave a sickly twisted smile as she got up from the table and walked over to the boys. Pausing to admire each Winchester, Tyler stepped closer to Dean, watching as he sneered coolly back at her. It was nice little display, but it didn't fully mask the fear that was coming from the boy in waves. The Demon had broken Dean before and the memory was obviously still sharp in the boy's mind. It was nice to see that the Demon's efforts were fully appreciated. "I'm just here to see how that little brother of yours is doing, see if he's made any decisions on whose side he'd like to be on when the shit hits the fan? Cause he was always my favorite, you know? I've got big plans for Sammy. Big plans indeed."_

"_You stay away from him!" Dean grunted in pain a moment later as the Demon forcefully threw him across the room and slammed him into a china cabinet. He hit the floor and didn't move._

"_DEAN!" Sam tried to move, still finding himself pinned. _

"_Relax, Sam. Dean's just fine. For now. He can stay that way too, if you do what I tell you." The Demon smiled and Sam felt his skin crawl, seeing such evil peering out from the face of a child. _

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_They were in the barn, Sam carrying his brother over his shoulder as the Demon indicated towards the ground at it's feet. " Just drop him down there, Sam. I've got a proposition for you that I think you should give some serious thought to." _

_Sam bent at the knees and gently eased to a crouching position before he lowered Dean to the ground carefully. The move brought Sam almost eye to eye with the Demon and he fought the urge to attack, only because of the fact it had cowardly chosen the body of a child to hide in. " Now what? What do you want from me?"_

"_Aw now come on, Sam. Don't be like that. This is your big moment, Graduation Day, you could call it. Today you finally get to be everything I always wanted." The Demon was beaming now, it's tone like that of a proud parent. It was all the more disturbing, being said in the soft tones of a pre-teen. _

"_Graduating to what? What have you done to me? To the other children?"_

"_I've prepared you, Sammy. Given you all the building blocks to be the perfect soldiers for me in the coming war. The other children, they'll be captain's, commanders…but I've had my eye on you. You're going to be my General."_

"_No. I won't. You can't make me." Sam argued, standing up again and towering over the Demon. _

"_Don't be so sure about that, sport." The Demon lifted Dean from the ground and held him in the air. "What do you say we make this a family affair? I brought someone to see you, Sam. Say howdy.."_

_Sam looked past the floating figure of his brother to see a winged creature standing several feet away, trapped within a summoning circle. His face screwed up in puzzlement until the figure lifted it's head and spoke with his father's voice. "Don't listen to it, Sam. Don't you do it, son. You stay strong, you hear me?"_

"_Dad?"_

"_Is this a Hallmark moment or what?" The Demon gave a little girlish giggle and winked at Sam. "So now that everyone's here...are you willing to listen to my proposition, Sam?"_

"_I'm listening." Sam folded his arms, glancing between Dean, who was still hanging in midair unconscious, and the winged figure that was supposed be his father. _

"_Good boy. Always knew you were the smart one in the family. I brought you here, Sammy, to flip your switch. Turn on those powers of yours to their full potential. Why walk when you can fly?"_

"_Don't, Sam." The winged figure pleaded._

"_Don't, Sam." The Demon mocked. "I should tear your tongue out, John. You're distracting the boy." It turned back to Sam, all smiles again. "Here's the deal. I need you at your full potential. For that? You have to take a life." It watched the fear flash through Sam's eyes as he looked at Dean. " Oh relax, Sam. I'm not talking about Dean. It has to be an innocent life. Your brother lost that a long time ago." The smile it gave Sam was pure evil. " I should know." _

_The Demon began to circle Sam, it's arms folded behind it. "You liked Tyler, right? She was a sweet kid? Chock full of happiness and sunshine." With a flourish, the Demon drew a knife out from behind it's back. " Kill her. Open the door to all those powers, Sam…and I'll let Dean let live, let your father go. What do you say?"_

"_No." Sam stepped back, horrified._

"_You might want to think about that, Sam." _

_Dean suddenly groaned as he started to regain consciousness, lifting his head and letting out a startled gasp at the fact he was floating still. " Sam? What the hell?"_

"_It's the girl…or your brother."_

_Blood began to soak through Dean's shirt as he felt his stomach starting to peel open like it had a zipper across it. The pain was like nothing he had ever felt before and he gritted his teeth in a failed attempt to strangle the cry of agony. It was the cabin all over again, except this time Dean was relieved it wasn't his father's face staring at him. Not that it made it any better, seeing your death at the hands of a twelve year old girl with the face of an angel. _

"_Don't!" Sam tried to move to Dean. He wanted to pull his brother down and shield him somehow. The pain was so clearly evident on his face and the blood running down Dean's body and dribbling from his boots was enough to make Sam want to scream. But the moment Sam tried to move, he found his feet were stuck to the spot. He was helpless as his brother bled. "Dean!"_

"_Sam…" Dean coughed out, blood spilling over his lips. God he hated that taste. _

"_I'm waiting, Sam." The Demon said sharply, offering the knife again. Sam looked at Dean and saw his brother give the faintest shake of his head. He was going to lose his brother, watch him bleed out and yet Sam couldn't make that move. He couldn't kill Tyler. She was just a kid, for crying out loud. _

"_No." Sam said quietly, his eyes fixed on Dean, begging his brother to forgive him._

_Dean gave a ghost of a smile and nodded his head ever so slightly at Sam, proud of his brother. The smile was lost in a scream of pain as more blood spilt, the Demon angrily tearing into Dean with it's mind, opening him up like a piñata before the force holding him was suddenly removed and Dean tumbled to the barn floor in a heap. Sam was freed too and he rushed forward, skidding to the floor beside his brother and gathering him in his arms. " Dean!...DEAN!"_

_The older Winchester let his head flop back against Sam's arm, looking up at him. His face was too pale, the blood on his lips and chin standing out starkly in comparison. Sam pressed a hand to Dean's stomach, eliciting a gasp of pain. "Oh god…oh god, Dean, there's so much blood. I can't stop it…" All he could feel was more of the precious red liquid flowing through his fingers, taking Dean's life with it. _

"_You did good, Sammy. You did just fine.." Dean told him. Everything was beginning to fade. "I'm the one that screwed. It's m-my job…to protect you. I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm sorry, dude."_

_His breath became a shuddering hiss, before it stopped suddenly, Dean's body going still. Sam looked down at his brother, searching his face, seeing nothing there anymore. There was no light in his brother's eyes…they were empty, dead. A cry of anguish shattered the air as Sam pulled his brother closer and began rocking him. " Dean…come on, dude. Please…please. Don't leave me, bro. Don't leave me."_

"_No…" _

_Sam could hear the winged figure, the shock and sadness in it's voice while behind him, the childish giggle of the Demon was mocking him. Rage began to build in Sam as he held his brother, feeling the warmth leaving him. This wasn't how it was meant to end. Not like this. Sam had lost everyone. The Demon had taken everything from him. _

"_You were warned, Sa-…"_

_The sentence went unfinished as the Demon felt the girl's heart stop suddenly, crushed by an invisible force. Then it was being pulled from the girl's body and for a moment, it was afraid. Sam had done what was required, without realizing it. He had lashed out in anger and grief, forgetting that the girl was there, that she was alive still with the Demon inside her. At least…she had been. Now as the Demon poured from her, it knew it was time to get out of there. It had made a mistake, misjudged Sam. Killing the older brother was supposed to weaken him, break the boy. It was an oversight…but there would be time to regroup, time to collect him later. The Demon slipped into the floor beside Tyler's body and disappeared. _

_Sam stayed where he was for a moment, the rage still building, choking him. His veins thick with it like tar. It seemed to seep from every pore as he gently placed Dean on the ground and stood. All Sam wanted was revenge. Against the Demon. Against them all. And he would have it. _

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Missouri felt dizzy and it took a few deep breaths to fight off the nausea in her stomach. Sweet lord, what had that boy done? Looking up at Sam, she saw the pain in his eyes and felt tears filling her own. " Oh, Sam, honey. It wasn't your fault."

"Don't! I killed her. I killed Dean! I could have saved him at least…he could have hunted me down. Stopped me. He promised he would. Did you know that, Missouri? Did you know what Dad made him promise? To kill me if he couldn't save me…well guess what? He couldn't do either. He's dead and now they all get to burn." Sam spat brokenly, the pain like a sharp knife, just peeling open his soul. If he even had one anymore? Sam know longer knew.

" Sam, let me help you. Please." Missouri went to stand up, only to find herself pinned.

" You can't. No one can help me anymore. It's over, Missouri. All of it. Get out of here, go while you can and hide. It'll all be over soon." Sam turned and walked away through the rubble, disappearing out of sight before Missouri could move. The hold was gone a moment later and she leapt to her feet and rushed after Sam, knowing it was already too late. He was gone. Cursing softly under her breath, she turned and headed back through the rubble, going out to the car she had parked there before when she had sensed Sam's presence. Missouri had to get out of Lawrence, had to find Bobby and tell him what had happened.

They needed to prepare for what was coming.

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	6. Awakenings

_Author's Notes: And here we get to a bit of a lighter Chapter folks, so I hope it works as a kind of payoff against all the recent angst. I do loves me some angst! LOL Thanks to everyone for the feedback recently…you guys keep me writing! HUGS_

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The first thing John noticed when Skye finally reappeared, was her hair….or the sudden change of length it had undergone. Where it had been half way down her back when Skye had fled past John and locked herself inside, it was now just a little above shoulder length. John turned to follow Skye as she walked past him without batting an eyelid, heading straight for the kitchen. It was getting late in the day and Skye needed to get dinner started if they were to eat at anything resembling a normal hour.

" So…uh, you okay?" John asked awkwardly, shifting a little uncomfortably in the doorway of the kitchen while Skye took some vegetables from the refrigerator to dice.

Skye turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow in question. "I'm fine. Any reason why I wouldn't be?"

"No." John suddenly felt like an idiot and that was something he was unaccustomed to. He frowned for a moment, then nodded towards her hair. "You get attacked in there?"

"Oh…that. It was full of dead guy. Had to go." Skye stated it as though it was the most logical thing in the world. It was at that moment, John wondered if he was going to lose his mind here? Dean was giving everyone the silent treatment still, Skye was apparently skirting the edge of her own personal breakdown….and John was stuck in the middle. Great, he came back from Hell for this? He sure wasn't Dear Abby and there was no way he was going to hold anyone's hand while they cried. If anything, he wanted to snap them out of it and get them on the road after Sam. All this sitting around was making him jumpy and it was hard to stretch his wings…..and didn't that sound weird still?

Skye moved around the kitchen with quiet efficiency, putting the pot of vegetables on the stove and taking out a packet of steak to fry. Onions and mushrooms were added to the fry pan as the steaks cooked and in no time, the kitchen was rich with the smell of food cooking. Connor wandered through, reaching up to brush his hand across John's folded right wing before he giggled softly and continued over to Skye. " Hungee, Mommy."

" It won't be long little guy. Come on, you can go sit in your high chair at the table." Skye scooped up her son and carried him over to the kitchen table, smiling at John as he folded out the highchair for her, then stepped back. Pushing Connor back to the table once he was strapped in, Skye looked at John. " Do you think Dean will eat?"

"I hope so. I'll see if I can get him to join us." John left the room and came back a few minutes later, hands tucked in his pockets, a brooding look darkening his face. " He won't acknowledge me at all."

"He's been through a lot."

"I know that dammit, I was there. I saw what the Demon put him through." John growled, dropping into a seat at the table. He shifted about with frustration, finding it hard to get his wings properly placed to be comfortable. No wonder man wasn't meant to fly. Wings were nothing but a pain in the ass.

Skye busied herself with serving up the meal to John and giving Connor a plate that had been sat on the side, cooling. Another plate was served up and Skye walked through to the living room, seeing Dean where she had left him earlier, still staring at the TV. Kneeling down in front of him, Skye placed the plate on his lap, noting that he looked down at it briefly, then back at the TV again. " Dean, please, eat something?"

He met her gaze and the depth of pain and sorrow in his eyes stunned Skye. It was like drowning in sadness and Skye's immediate reaction was to cup a hand to his cheek. "Dean…please?"

Those exquisite green eyes Skye had dreamed about so often, looked away from her, to the TV. There was no acknowledgement, nothing. Dean might have well as looked through her. With a lump building in her throat, Skye left the food with Dean and got to her feet. " Try and eat something." Her own appetite was already waning as she went back to the kitchen, but Skye forced herself to eat half her meal. Smiling at Connor and taking comfort in the knowledge that despite all that had happened, he was still happy. Still himself. There were times she wished she could be a child again and have their resilience.

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With dinner out of the way, John helped with the dishes before he stated to Skye he was going to check the perimeter of the farm. "I put some wards up earlier. I just want to make sure their still intact before we settle in for the night. Shouldn't take me too long."

Skye stacked away the few plates they had used and went to check on Connor. The little boy was stood at the small coffee table in the living room, scribbling frantically on a few sheets of paper with his crayons. He drew a few more random squiggles in bright red, then picked up the sheet and walked around the table to where Dean was sat on the couch. " Dee…fo oo."

When there was no response forthcoming, Connor slapped the paper with his hand and raised his voice a little. " Dee! Fo oo!" Still nothing. With a scowl, the little boy wandered back over to the table and began to draw again.

" _In further news, widespread damage has been reported across Oklahoma, with many towns being evacuated and reports are starting to come in of some areas suffering terrible losses in what the Government is currently calling… a cleverly conducted nationwide terrorist attack on US soil."_

" Alright…that's it." Skye strode into the room and shut the TV off. "I've had enough of you listening to all that doom and gloom. Both of you…" She glanced at Dean, before walking to a small desk in the corner of the room where her laptop was sitting.

" Gone?" Connor looked at the TV, then back to his mother.

"Yeah, it's all gone for now. Hey, little man, how about some music? You want to dance?" Skye smiled as Connor scrambled to his feet excitedly.

" Yay!" Connor through his hands in the air and grinned. He rushed over to the desk, his little hands grabbing the edge of it while he watched his mother's every move, anticipating the beginning of the music. AC/DC began to play, Who Made Who filling the air as the little boy backed up and began to stamp his feet and head bang. He stomped around the living room, giggling madly. Skye stood there with her hands on her hips, watching him with a wide smile. There nothing in the world that could lift her spirits, like her son.

" I'm going to go run you a bath, kiddo. You just behave yourself in here, okay? Mommy will be back in a minute to get you."

Connor continued to stomp around the room, giggling and looking over at Dean. " Dee! Yay!" He flung his hands in the air, hoping to get the man's attention. The move instantly overbalanced the little boy and he toppled forward, landing hard on the ground, a cry of pain and fright instantly splitting the air.

Skye was on the move within seconds, racing to the living room…..and skidding to a halt in the doorway, holding her breath without even realizing it, her hand flying up to her mouth. There, crouched in front of the TV with Connor gathered up against his chest, was Dean. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him. The sound of Connor's distress cutting straight through the barriers Dean had thrown up against the world and digging straight into the ingrained protectiveness that Dean had always carried for his own baby brother since the fire.

" Shhhh, shhhh, it's okay, little dude. It's okay. I've got you…I've got you. Hey…let me have a look, okay? I just want to check and see how bad it is. I won't hurt you, I promise." Dean gently sat the little boy back and examined his bottom lip, spying a small drop of blood. " Oh hey, it's nothing. Just a scratch, buddy. You okay now? You want to come and sit on the couch?"

Connor nodded his head solemnly, snuffling still and threw his arms around Dean's neck. They stood up as one and Dean looked over at Skye as he turned. There was the beginnings of a spark in those green pools now and Skye felt tears filling her own eyes before she swiped them away and let out the breath she'd been holding. " You two okay in here?"

" Yeah, we're fine. Go finish running that bath." Dean nodded, sitting down on the couch with Connor curled up against him. He picked up the piece of paper that Connor had given him before. " So what's this? You drew this for me, huh?"

Connor slapped the piece of paper and grinned. " Pala!"

"Pala?"

Connor was still for a second, before he scrambled down off of Dean's lap and ran to the toy box in the corner of the room. He returned with a die cast Chevy Impala that Dean recognized instantly. " Hey! I bought that for you! You still have it?" Connor nodded and thrust the car out at Dean. " Dee's Pala! Dee an Ammy!" The little boy paused then and looked around the room. " No Ammy? Gone?"

" Yeah, dude. Sammy's gone."

Connor clapped his hands over his eyes. " Ammy peekaboo?"

Dean frowned, unsure what he meant, until it dawned on him and a sad smile appeared. " Yeah, Sammy's hiding. But we're gonna find him, aren't we, Connor? We're gonna bring Sammy home again." He was surprised as Connor dropped his hands and ran to Dean, climbing back up him like a mountain goat and kissing Dean on the nose wetly. " Dee home." He buried his face in against Dean's neck and hugged him tightly while Dean rubbed the little boy's back.

All that time on the road, all the times he had felt like he was drowning with the weight of the world, of his life, on his shoulders…was suddenly lifting. Dean knew that he had to find Sam, that he could never settle until he had him back again. But right now, he had back a part of his life that Dean had missed more than he realised. A part that until now, he hadn't even considered part of his life. Connor wasn't his son, but the affection Dean had for the boy ran deep. There had been a bond forged over phone calls and brief visits that he had thought was lost when he gave up the Impala and went to ground. But it seemed he was wrong and Dean was happy about that. Struggling out of the chair with Connor still basically choking him now, Dean made his way to the bathroom, and found Skye just turning off the water.

She jumped a little as she turned and clapped a hand to her chest. "God, Dean, you scared the hell out of me! I'm going to buy you a bell!"

Dean mused over the thought of that, Skye smiling at the look on his face, the way it pursed his lips and cocked one eyebrow. She took Connor from his arms and undressed him, placing the little boy in the bath and jumping back as Connor attempted to splash her with a mischievous laugh. The move meant she collided with Dean behind her and the instant his arms were around her, there was a charge in the air. He slid his hands up and down her arms for a moment, looking down at Skye as she turned to face him. " Sorry…"

"No harm done." Dean smiled. " Hey…uh….don't suppose you kept my dinner for me?"

Skye could have cried at that point, instead she just laid her head against his chest for a moment, hearing his heart thumping softly in her ear, before she straightened up again. " In the refrigerator. There's no way to heat it up though, unless you put it in the oven."

" Nah…It'll be fine." Dean gave Skye a wink and left the bathroom, suddenly realizing just how hungry he was. First thing tomorrow, they could start looking for Sam.

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John almost did a double take when he entered the kitchen and found his son sitting up the table sopping up the last of his dinner with a piece of bread. There was colour back in his cheeks, an energy about the boy that was all Dean. He was finally back, this was the boy he knew.

Dean looked up and narrowed his eyes at John, then picked up his plate and left the table, walking to the sink and busying himself with washing it before he placed it on the side. He could feel his father's eyes burning into him and slowly turned, his head tilted to the side in a move John recognized instantly. His son was sizing him up as an opponent, taking in every detail and filing it away.

" Nice wings." Dean said conversationally. " Bet they cost a bit…"

"Dean."

" What? I'm just saying. Wish I could have a set of wings like that. I was in line for a set…til someone jumped the queue." Dean's tone was frosty now as he leaned back casually on the sink behind him.

"Don't you dare talk like that. I did what I had to, Dean!"

"Why? Why did you have to, Dad? Why did you have to ask me to kill Sammy? Too damn cowardly to do it yourself?"

John's wings snapped in the air angrily as he took a step towards Dean and saw no fear there. The younger Winchester merely rose up to his full height defiantly and met his father's gaze without waver. "Dammit, don't you understand, Dean? I only told you that, because you needed to know the truth. Because I knew it would drive you to protect Sam even harder!"

"You told me to kill him!" Dean yelled, his voice cracking a little with the emotions raging through him. " I'd lost Mom, you were about to go off give yourself over to the thing that killed her…and you stood there telling me to kill the one I had left in this world. Dad, did it ever occur to you that I didn't want you to save me? That maybe I was done with all this? That I just wanted it to be over?"

"Stop…" John pleaded softly.

"No, I won't stop. You had no right making that choice for me, Dad! No right to put that on my shoulders!"

" Sam needed you! " John argued.

"And what about me, Dad? What about me? Who did I have? Huh? Sam had me to keep him safe, to fall back on and look to for strength…but who was there for me? I needed you, Dad! I've always needed you!" Dean was close to breaking, all the anger and hurt he had carried for so long over his father's death, the deal he had made, all bubbling to the surface.

John stood face to face with his son, guilt covering him like a shroud as he spoke quietly. " Jesus, Dean. You think I don't know that? You think I wanted to leave you boys? I couldn't let you die, Dean. I wouldn't. I lost your mother, I could let that son of a bitch have you too."

Dean nodded softly, understanding the choice his father had made. He would do it himself for Sam, no matter the cost. But the fact his father was standing before him and obviously not human anymore, troubled Dean greatly. " What happened at the barn? Did I die again? Did….did the Demon take Sam?"

" Yeah, Dean, you died." John's voice was quiet but honest. "I brought you back. You took some of my blood."

Dean's eyes widened and he pressed back against the sink further. "Your blood? Demon blood? You fed me demon blood? What the hell has it done to me?" He couldn't help but remember how freaked he was when Sam had shown to be immune to the demon virus. Was he like his brother now? Did the demon blood in him mean something? Did Sam have demon blood in him too?

" Dean…listen to me. I had to give you that blood. I brought you back, son. It healed you. It was the only chance I had."

" But what? What aren't you telling me?

John took a deep breath, his wings rising and falling behind him gently. "That Demon son of a bitch wants your brother. Needs him to run his armies. That was the plan all along and that hasn't changed. But Sam's not under their control. He's gone rogue, Dean. He's killing every demon he meets."

"Hell yeah! We should be there cheering him on!"

"Shut up and listen, Dean!" John snapped, smiling ever so slightly at the way his son instantly obeyed, almost snapping to attention like the good soldier he had been raised to be. "Sam is letting his abilities take over, he's letting them guide him. If he keeps doing that, we'll lose him, Dean. He'll become what the Demon wants. A killer without remorse, without thought for anything but bloodshed. That's why I need you. You're the only one that can get through to him. You always have been. The blood I gave you. It not only brought you back, Dean, it made you a weapon. You'll heal faster now….the closer we get to Sam, you may even start to sense where he is. I'm not exactly sure what it will do to you yet…but you're the best chance we have of stopping this and saving Sam. You always have been." John stepped forward and placed his hands on his son's shoulders. "_That's_ why I brought you back. _That's_ why I gave my life for yours. I had to…it was the only way to save you boys and stop the world from dying with you both."

Dean was startled for a moment, then he found his composure again, drawing strength from the feel of his father's hands. His family was pretty screwed up, but he could salvage it, put it back together again. Looking over towards the doorway, he saw Skye standing there with Connor in her arms, the little boy now wearing a set of Transformer pajamas. It brought a soft smile to his face. Yeah…he was going to get his brother back and out that Demon down for good. He had a family now….

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_Author's Notes 2: The dance Connor did is exactly how my own little boy reacts to AC/DC. Cutest thing ever and no one ever showed him how to do it. I guess mullet rock just has that effect on him. LOL_

_Thanks for reading again, guys…Things are going to start picking up shortly…_


	7. Chapter 7  Hope Rebuilding

_Sorry for the wait, guys…I've had a cold and three kids on school holidays. Sleep has been a bit of an issue. Hope this next part is worth the wait…_

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" Come on, Connor, it's time little guys like you were in bed." Skye scooped Connor up in her arms, planting a kiss on his cheek as she carried him towards her bedroom, where the portable crib was waiting. Dean had gone for a walk with John and Skye knew they needed their space. It was a lot for Dean to digest, having his father back like that, but she was simply happy Dean had any chance with his father at all. It was something for Dean to hold onto with Sam missing.

In the time that Dean was in his coma, Skye had found John a source of comfort. There'd been stories he'd told her about Dean and Sam, just small snapshots of what his boys were like when they were younger, of the strength of character Dean had shown on a hunt, the way Sam could be the most stubborn person on the planet, but would change instantly if his brother needed him. Simple stories that painted a picture for Skye of how much John loved his boys and how much he hoped he meant to them in return. Skye could only hope that John was getting a sense of that now as he walked the perimeter again with Dean.

Tucking Connor in under his blankets, she ran a hand over his head and made sure he had his bear with him. "You gonna be okay in here, sweetie?"

"Dee diss?"

Skye smiled. " No sweetie, no kiss tonight from Dean, he's busy. You'll see him in the morning, okay?"

The pout that formed on Connor's face caused Skye's heart to ache. She wondered if Dean had ever realised just how important he was to her son? If he had simply driven away that night and never looked back, Skye would have just chalked him up to a wonderful life experience and probably a nice story to tell her son in years to come. The mysterious hero and his brother that had saved them from a vengeful spirit. But Dean hadn't disappeared. He'd called in numerous times with Sam, brought Connor and Skye gifts, kept in touch by phone until they'd been forced to go off the radar. Even then, by leaving the Impala, Dean had made himself a part of Skye and Connor's life. But did he know that? Did he realize how special he was to everyone around him?

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" So have you like tried a loop the loop yet? Or dive bombing? Tell me you've tried dive bombing?" Dean gave his father a cheeky grin as he raised an eyebrow in question.

" No…I haven't looped the loop yet. I'll add it to my list of things to do." John said dryly before he chuckled, shaking his head. Only Dean could think that way, that a set of wings was something to be played with. John would have readily given them up if he could. But they were part of his demon side and John supposed he was grateful that he'd received them and not a set of horns, or one of those damned scaly ass tails he'd seen others with during his time in Hell. It was all part of the demonic sense of humour. Make the demon hunter become part of what he hunted, what he hated.

John hated the damn wings. They itched, they got in the way. He'd been forced to adapt to walking with them on his back and the only time he truly felt comfortable anymore, was in the air, letting them stretch fully and feeling the wind lift him. It was total freedom…but otherwise, he was struggling to adapt to having them, wasn't sure he ever would.

Dean stopped as the reached the eastern corner of the yard, leaning on the fence and staring out at the farmland before him. It was so flat and golden, apparently reaching for miles. He imagined having a set of wings of his own and what it would be like to fly across the landscape, racing his father. Having him back again, it was as if a huge weight was lifted from Dean, despite the questions her had, the conflicts of emotion. Having him back meant there was someone he could talk to about getting Sam back, plan strategies with, a partner he was used to working with too….well, without the wings, but that was one hell of a cool improvement.

" So how did Skye find me?"

John took up a position beside his son, looking across the fields himself. He'd known this shift in topic was coming, the way he had always known the way Dean thought. The boy was good at changing tack in the blink of an eye. " She had dreams about the farm you and your brother were staying at."

" You gave her those dreams?"

" Yeah."

" Did she…" Dean paused for a moment and John could already detect a slight tremor in his son's voice. " Did…did she see me die?"

" No. You were already dead in her dreams, Dean."

" What?" The word was spoken sharply, almost a growl as Dean looked at his father furiously. "What the hell, Dad? You showed her dreams of my body? What were you trying to do?"

"I was showing her that she was needed, that she had to see to save you, Dean." John explained calmly.

"Save me? I was dead! You had no right to bring Skye into this, Dad!" Dean pushed away from the fence and began to walk off.

John was on his heels in an instant, grabbing Dean by the shoulders and spinning him around. "You brought her into this Dean! Not me! You were the one that made the calls, the visits. You're the one that kept coming in and out of her life like a goddamn gypsy. Don't you dare try and insinuate that she's in danger here because of me!"

" I haven't seen her in over a year, Dad! I was gone from her life. I was trying to keep her safe!"

" You weren't gone, Dean. You left the Impala there. Are you're telling me you honestly weren't going back for it?" John eyed Dean carefully. He saw the argument building on Dean's lips before it died a moment later and Dean lowered his gaze to the ground shaking his head softly. "I can't let her get hurt, Dad. Skye? Connor? They've been the only things keeping me going when it got rough with me and Sam. Knowing that they weren't part of all this. That it wasn't touching them, that I wasn't going to have to worry about them getting hurt…..losing another person I know to the freaking Demon. Now I don't even have that!" Dean stormed ahead then, head down, hand thrust deeply in the pockets of his jacket.

John stopped and let his son go, watching as he swung back around to the house and disappeared inside. Dean's fears were very real, but with the way things were going, no one was going to be left untouched and Skye was safer by Dean's side, than alone.

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Skye was asleep on her bed, laptop beside her and still open on the email she'd had been writing. Dean pulled the blankets over her and made sure she was warm before he took the laptop away, glancing at the email and wondering who the hell DakotaVet was? Why was Skye asking this person about signs? Asking about Sam? Closing the computer, Dean sat it on the dressing table and left the room, switching off the light. There'd be plenty of time later to ask about the email….

He went to the kitchen and distracted himself with making a pot of coffee, hearing the back door open a moment later as John entered. Dean waited a moment, deciding whether or not he wanted to start this again, then turned around to see John patiently watching him.

" Come on, you might as well get it off your chest, Dean."

" Fine." Dean nodded, folding his arms in front of him as he leaned his back against the counter. " You sent Skye dreams to tell me where to find me. You brought her and Connor into the middle of this. Why the hell don't you send Sam a dream? Show him I'm alive? Huh? Why haven't you done that yet? What are you getting out of having him out there alone?"

" Keep your voice down, dammit!" John snapped, his wings shifted irritably on his back as he rolled his shoulders. He eyed Dean angrily for a moment, before lowering his head, the fight just sliding away. " I can't send Sam any dreams. The moment Skye released me from the circle of power that was holding me, I lost my demon powers. The dream projection was part of that. That's why I had to send the dreams to Skye. I knew she was connected to you, that she would be drawn to you. I had to take the gamble that she would listen to me and save you. It was all I had. You have no idea what it was like to be trapped there, seeing you dead, having watched that son of bitch kill you in front of Sammy. I never want to go through anything like that again, Dean."

" Yeah well, it sucked from where I was standing too." Dean admitted quietly, frowning as he gently rubbed a hand across his stomach and felt the slight ridge of scar tissue he now carried there. Turning back to the coffee pot, Dean took two clean cups from the sink and filled them, then handed one cup to his father.

" Are we okay now? You got any other beefs with me?" John asked over the rim of the cup before he took a sip.

Dean snorted, choking out a soft laugh. " I'll always have beefs with you, Dad. You did your best, but you weren't exactly father of the year, you know? And the whole selling your soul for me is still not something I'm ever getting past."

" We've been over this already. I had to, Dean…it was the only way to save you."

" Maybe. But it still hurt…" Dean fixed his father with a firm look as he drank his coffee, then put the cup in the sink. " I'm tired. I'm going to get some sleep so we can hit the road early and try and find Sam."

" We'll find him, Dean." John told his son as the boy left the kitchen. His words caused Dean to pause in the doorway and look back, the expression on his face like a knife to John's heart. He was suddenly a kid again, looking to his father for reassurance. John wanted to take Dean in his arms and hug him then, but Dean wasn't a kid. He was grown man and the time for him to believe in everything his father said, was long gone. " We'll find him." John reiterated firmly and was rewarded by Dean nodding in agreement before he walked away to his room and closed the door behind him.

Skye wasn't sure why exactly she woke up. It was just a niggling feeling. Something had changed. Something was missing. Sitting up in bed, she realised that someone had covered her up and moved the laptop. A moment later, she realised that the portable crib was empty. Scrambling out of bed, Skye rushed out into the hallway without bothering to put the light on first and found there was a light coming from the living room. Hurrying there, Skye found Dean flipping through the Home Shopping Channel idly, Connor sound asleep on his lap, cradled inside one of Dean's arms.

" What is it with you Winchesters and kidnapping my son?" Skye smiled, folding her arms as she entered the room.

Dean's head whipped up at the sound of her voice and Dean gave a shy grin, his cheeks beginning to flush red. " Hey…sorry, I couldn't sleep and I heard the little guy playing in his crib."

" I didn't hear anything.." Skye frowned. How the hell was she going to keep Connor safe if she didn't even hear him wake up?

" You were pretty beat, Skye, it's not like you dropped the ball or anything. " Dean assured her.

" Yeah, sure…" Skye muttered uncertainly, watching Dean for a moment. "You got room there for one more?"

" Sure." Dean scooted over carefully, making sure he didn't disturb Connor. Skye sat down beside him and looked over at her son, noting how peaceful he looked there. It was the sort of thing she wished she had a photo of, because her life had been sorely lacking anything like this recently. It felt so weird, having Dean back, actually having him there in the flesh and not speaking to her down a phone line, or some phantom she was chasing across the country each time there was a sighting. They say in silence for a moment, Skye sneaking glances at Dean and fighting the urge to smile at just being in his company again.

Dean sniggered suddenly and looked at Skye, noting the querying look on her face. He nodded down at the sleeping form of Connor, his eyes bright with memories. " He's snoring. Listen."

Skye could just pick up the soft, rumble of her son's breath as it drew a smile to her face. She watched Dean as he looked over her son, wondering where his mind was taking him at that moment. He looked so handsome, the lines around his face had completely softened and there was a wistful look in his eyes that brought out the green intensely. " Dean?"

" Sam used to snore like that. I remember I used to listen for it when he was little. It was one of those things I needed to hear before I could sleep. Sometimes I'd even climb right into the crib, just so I could listen to it. 'Course, when he got older, it was more like lumber saw, but I still needed to hear it sometimes before I could sleep." Dean spoke softly, so much affection in his voice that it made Skye ache.

" We're going to find him, Dean."

" Everyone keeps saying that." Dean looked at her and Skye could see the doubt and fear shadowing his eyes. " I can't kill him, Skye. I know Dad wanted me to, if he ever went evil….but I just can't do it. He's my brother." His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, his voice rough with emotion as he struggled to maintain control.

" Hey…hey, listen to me." Skye gently placed her fingers under his chin and made sure Dean looked at her. " I don't know what John was thinking, telling you to do that. But it's not happening. We're going to find Sam and you're bringing him home. Okay? That's it. No one's getting killed."

Dean stared at Skye, his eyes studying her, as if searching to see if she believed what she was saying. Skye held his gaze steadily, even as Dean suddenly leaned in, his lips brushing hers. Then Skye closed her eyes and surrendered to the softness of Dean's lips, feeling a hand slip to the back of her neck, Dean's thumb lazily stroking back and forth as their kiss deepened. It was like coming home, falling back into those lips again as if they had never been apart and Skye felt a tear run down slip from the corner of her eye to slide down her cheek.

Connor shifted suddenly, letting out small cry in his sleep and the pair leapt apart as if they'd been stung. Skye swiped the heel of her palm across her eye, wiping away the tear she had shed as she gave Dean a soft, shy smile. He grinned in return and looked down at the tiny figure that was now soundly asleep again on his lap. " I might put this little dude back to bed and get some sleep myself. We need to head out first thing in the morning."

" Yeah, sounds like a plan." Skye nodded, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. She knew better than to push Dean. He had to come to her when he was ready, not before. For now, she'd just have to be patient. Pushing herself up from the sofa, she paused and stood waiting. " I can take him, you go on off to bed."

" You sure?"

Skye simply fixed Dean with a look that had him instantly lifting Connor up into her waiting arms. He switched the tv off with the remote and got to his feet as Skye made her way towards her room. She tucked the little boy into his crib again and turned to find Dean standing in the doorway, watching them. " You okay?"

" Yeah," Dean nodded. He was quiet again and Skye got the impression he wanted to say something to her before Dean suddenly seem to animate again, flashing her a tired smile. " Goodnight then." He padded away softly to his room and closed the door. Skye climbed into bed and laid there, thinking of the kiss and of what Dean had said. She was determined to help him find Sam and as sleep began to creep over Skye, she found it hard to shake the knot in her stomach about what lay ahead for them.

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Dean had to be dreaming. The last thing he remembered, was climbing into bed and staring at the ceiling. Now? There was no ceiling, he was in the open, walking towards a campfire he could see ahead of him. The ground was cold beneath his bare feet and Dean found himself taking careful steps in the loose sand to stop himself from standing on anything sharp. A faded red pickup truck was parked nearby, a figure wearing a navy blue hoodie was lying asleep near the fire. Dean couldn't make out the face at first, but as he got close enough to realize who it was, his eyes widening in surprise, the figure pulled a .45 out from beneath them and pointed it at Dean. " Stop right there."

"Sammy?"

Sam sat up slowly, the gun in his hand wavering slightly before he lowered it. " What do you want now, Dean? I thought I told you at the diner to leave me alone?"

" Huh? What diner? Sam what the hell talking about, man? I haven't seen you since the barn."

" Yeah…sure, whatever." Sam snorted, tucking the gun away again and indicating to Dean's side of the fire. " So you gonna sit down? I mean, if you came all this way to see me, we might as well talk."

Dean sat down Indian style, tucking his feet underneath him and smiling despite the situation. "Damn it's good to see you again, Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes and shot his brother a filthy look. " It's Sam, Dean. Not Sammy. It hasn't been Sammy in years."

" Dude, you'll always be Sammy." Dean said honestly. He had no idea why he was dreaming of his brother like this, but right now, Dean could care less. It was just so good seeing him again. " You look like hell, man."

Sam laughed, the sound sharp and bitter on the night air. " You came all the way out here to tell me that? What are you racking up frequent flyer points now?"

" No, but Dad might be." Dean quipped, his grin fading as he saw the frown appear on Sam's face. " Never mind." He picked up a twig and began tracing patterns in the sand in front of him, his mind racing. " I'm trying to find you, bro." Dean looked back up at his brother, his face becoming pained as he shrugged lightly and gave a bitter smile. " I don't even know where the hell to start looking, but I'm trying to find you. You gotta hang in there for me."

Sam's head cocked to the side, his brow furrowing in confusion. " What do you mean, find me? I'm right here, Dean."

Dean shook his head and threw the stick into the fire. " No, not dream you, Sam. The real you. I've got Skye with me and Connor. Man, you should see him. He's so big now and just the cutest kid. He'd have you watching Wiggles in no time." He smirked at the thought. " You just need to hang on, cause I'm coming okay? I'm gonna find you." He suddenly began to feel lightheaded, as though he was being pulled away and realised he was waking up. " No, no, no…not yet. Come on! Just a little longer, dammit! " Dean pleaded to no one in particular. He didn't want to wake up. He wanted to stay here where Sam was safe, where Dean could talk to him and pretend everything was alright still.

" Dean? Dean! " Sam was on his knees now, his eyes suddenly pleading with Dean. " Dean, wait!"

" I'm sorry, Sammy…" Dean choked out before everything faded out completely and he awoke to find himself in his room. He sat up, punching the mattress with a clenched fist in frustration. Why the hell did the good dreams have to fade so fast? Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself. There was something rough scratching at his feet and with confusion settling across his face, Dean pulled back the covers to find his bare feet covered in sand. " What the hell?? "

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Hours away, Sam sat up sharply from his sleeping place beside his makeshift camp fire, his newly acquired .45 clutched in his hand. He scanned the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest and aching from the dream about Dean. He'd looked so alive. Sam shifted suddenly, noticing something in the sand on the other side of the fire. Crawling closer, Sam frowned at the sight of a gentle pattern traced in the sand before him. The same one he'd seen Dean create in his dream. " What the….Dean?" Sam sat back heavily, looking around him rapidly as he recalled his brother's words in the dream.

" _You just need to hang on, cause I'm coming okay? I'm gonna find you."_

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_A/N 2: And so we finally get a glimpse of what the demon blood has done to Dean. Again, sorry for the long wait, guys. The next chapter will see a few familiar faces appear...and not all of them will be welcome. evil laugh _


	8. Too Close For Comfort

_AN: As always, thanks to everyone for the awesome feedback. I suck at replying in a hurry, but I will always reply…so thanks again, guys. From here on, the action is going to get bigger and better, heading towards the finale for this story…so hopefully this chapter will be worth the wait._

_Thanks go out to LovinJackson for putting up with me during the writing of this and allowing me to bounce ideas of her. And of course, to my Darling Hubby, for listening to me talk incessantly about my boys and this show. HUGS_

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John could tell from the way Dean was leaning against the sink, all his weight resting on his palms, that something was seriously troubling his son. The eldest Winchester had entered the kitchen smelling coffee and craving that morning caffeine fix. Just from the scent of it alone, John knew that Dean had made the coffee. It was almost an art form for Dean. Having learnt as a young boy, the intricate details of making a coffee that would keep you awake for hours, sharp as a knife….yet had a full, rich flavour that wasn't akin to the bottom of your shoe. It was real hunter coffee, not that pussy Starbucks stuff they charged you an arm and a leg for, all froth and cinnamon.

" You look like hell, Dean." John commented as he paused to pour himself a decent sized cup of the dark liquid from the pot. He watched Dean from over the rim of the cup and he took a sip, noting the hint of a bemused smile on his son's lips as he turned his head to study his father.

" Thanks Harvey…you're not looking so great either."

" Harvey?"

" Yeah, you know…Harvey Birdman? The Adult swim cartoon?" Dean explained, already seeing a blank look on his father's face.

" Adult what? What the hell are you talking about?"

" Nothing…never mind." Dean shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. He poured out the cold remains of his own coffee down the sink, looking back out the window. He hadn't slept since that dream…if it was a dream? Dean still wasn't sure what the hell had happened there? If it wasn't just a dream, then he had really seen Sam, knew that he for now, he was okay.

" What's on your mind, Dean?" John asked, his eyes all boring into his son, demanding answers. " You look like crap, like you've hardly slept. What's going on?"

" I dreamt of Sam." There…it was out in the open. Dean wasn't going to avoid this issue like he usually did. He turned and looked straight at John, his green eyes never wavering. " I saw him and I spoke to him just like I'm talking to you here and now. He was camped out on the side of the road, all alone."

" Did he look okay?"

" He looked fine, Dad. That's not the point! I was there! I sat in the sand, at the fire and when I woke up? I had sand all over my feet…how the hell could that happen if it was a dream?" Dean hadn't meant to blurt it out like that, but the realization of what had happened had been sinking in over the last few hours and it had Dean freaked.

" But Sam looked okay? Dean! He looked alright?" John demanded, pressing for answers.

" Yeah, he was fine." Dean answered carefully, a frown creasing his brow. " And this isn't scaring you in the slightest? The fact I suddenly got all Spock mind-link with Sam? You know what happened, don't you? What the hell is going on, Dad? Is this part of what you've done to me? What your blood did?"

" It's possible. You've got a strong bond with your brother. I'm guessing that's given you some sort of link with him."

" What the hell?? Now I'm some sort of psychic freak??" Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. First his brother becomes some sort of mind power whizzkid because if the Demon and now Dean was starting to get freaky powers of his own? Was he going to go darkside too? Would someone have to hunt him down too the way he was expected to hunt Sam?

" Are you two quite finished? " Skye demanded, walking into the kitchen with Connor perched on one hip." Some of us were actually still asleep…emphasis on were." The little boy was yawning and rubbing at his eyes before he held his arms out to John, silently imploring to be picked up and smiling when John complied. Giggles filled the kitchen as Connor reached over John's shoulder and brushed the inky black feathers there before the wing slipped out of his reach, then unfurled to wrap about the boy.

The instant it folded back to reveal Connor the little boy squealed with delight. " Peekaboo!"

John laughed, warm and rich, reaching over to rub a hand affectionately through Connor's hair. " I'm going to go put the tv on for this little guy and finish my coffee." He scooped up his coffee cup as he went, shaking his head as Connor asked for him to sing Hot Potato. " Come on, dude, we talked about this…"

Skye smiled, watching the pair as they left, noting the look of surprise on Dean's face. " Not quite the man you knew, is he?"

" Actually…he is. " Dean said softly, his voice full of emotion. " It's just been missing for a long time. I've missed him."

" He's not going anywhere, Dean." Skye assured him quietly. She busied herself with making Connor some breakfast while Dean stood at the sink, watching her every move. Once the toast was buttered and cut into triangles, Skye finally heard Dean speak again.

" Hey, look…about last night?"

" Yeah?" Skye turned slightly, apprehensive about what she was about to hear.

" That was nice. I've missed you too." Dean moved, coming closer to Skye as she turned fully to look up into his eyes. They were face to face….or face to chest in Skye's case and her heart was pounding, skin tingling at having him so close again. Dean gave her a smile, one of the sweet, boyish smiles that Skye could never, ever get enough off as he reached over to cup a hand to her face, drawing in closer for a deep, passionate kiss that had Skye reeling. Yes! Yes! He was back! This was her Dean. Her arms slid around his waist as the kiss deepened futher, their tongues gently caressing.

" Don't mind me…carry right on there…" John grinned as he walked through to put his coffee cup in the sink and grabbed the toast made for Connor.

The kiss was over instantly as Dean and Skye pulled apart, laughing at being caught out. " Great timing there, Dad…"

" What? " John shrugged innocently. " You two want privacy? Get a room…"

The light mood in the room was cut short by the sound of the front screen door banging. Skye froze instantly, her head whipping towards the sound. " Where's Connor?"

" I left him in the living room…" John replied, already on the move. A tiny scream filled the air and Skye was already running for the yard, Dean close behind her. John had changed direction, making the split second strategic decision to head out the kitchen door and take the back away around the house.

Skye and Dean burst out the front door, instantly finding Connor standing in the yard in the grasp of a man Skye had never seen before. He had Connor held tightly in one arm, the other holding a knife to the little boy's throat. A chill flooded through Skye as she saw the jet black eyes and knew the man was possessed. Probably another of the foot soldiers John had told her about. " Please….let him go."

" That all depends." The demon growled, tightening his grip and making Connor cry, his arms reaching out for Skye.

A whimper left Skye's throat and she moved forward, unable to bear the sound of Connor crying, terror filling her as this thing threatened her reason for being. Dean grabbed Skye gently by the arm and stopped her. " Don't…" His gaze never left the demon, jaw set angrily. " What do you want, you son of a bitch?"

" You." The demon pointed it's knife towards Dean . " You come with me and I let this brat live. Otherwise, I'll end his miserable little life right now. I'm probably doing him a favour anyway. None of you are going to survive when we take over."

" You sound pretty sure of that." Dean was still moving slowly closer, his hands up in an easy stance of surrender. " From what I've heard? My brother's tearing you all a new one."

" He's become a problem…" The demon admitted grudgingly.

Dean grinned cockily. " Yeah, Sammy never was one for following orders…guess your boss should have remembered that, huh?"

Shifting uneasily, the demon pressed the knife closer to Connor's throat, making the little boy scream even louder. " You Winchesters, always so smug, so sure of yourselves. You have no idea what you're in the middle of. Trying to stop the coming war is like trying to stop a dam from bursting."

" Yeah well, someone has to put their finger in the dyke…" Dean retorted. " Or however that story went…you get the idea anyway." Smart….real smart. Why the hell didn't he stop when he ahead?

" I get the idea." The demon nodded smiling coldly as he pressed the knife even closer, a drop of red appearing. " But even heroes fail sometimes, tough guy. It's a harsh lesson to learn…"

Skye let out a scream and rushed forward, already knowing what was about to happen. Dean lunged forward himself, determined that this demon wasn't going to hurt Connor. They were both thrown back as the demon simply tossed them with a flick of his head, pinning them against the farm house. " No spoiling the fun now. You've both got front row seats to this."

" You hurt him and I swear I'll kill you." Dean ground out. " Not just send your ass back to hell, I'll kill you! I'll find that damn Colt and I'll put that last bullet through your thick skull. You want to kill someone? You want to spill a little blood? Kill me…cut me. Come on. Don't take it out on a baby. How the hell does that make you anything but a coward?"

" Noble…I'll give you that. But the kid's expendable…along with the bitch. You're the only one we need, Dean. You're the one that can stop your brother."

" Fine…so take me. I'll go wherever you want. I'll do what you say. Just let him go."

For a moment, it seemed as though the demon was considering the idea. Dean felt a surge of hope, even as Skye was looking at him from where she was pinned to the wall, terrified by the prospect of losing him and Connor. Then with a casual shrug, the demon lifted the knife. " Sorry…no deal. I've already got you where I want you. I don't need these two."

" NO!" Dean fought against the force holding him.

The air filled with the sharp beating of wings as John swooped in from the sky, tearing Connor from the demon's grasp and carrying the little boy away buried safely in his strong embrace. The demon was sent crashing to the ground by the move, his hold on Dean and Skye breaking as suddenly as it had begun. Dean rushed forward, launching himself onto the demon and slugging him hard in the jaw, once, twice, three times before he was thrown backwards by the demon, crashing into one of the beams holding up the porch. Dean could taste blood in his mouth as he lifted his head, feeling like a freight train had hit him.

The demon was already standing over him, pulling Dean up and throwing him again. He sailed through the air and slammed into the ground, the air whooshing from his lungs, leaving him gasping like a fish out of water, unable to move, to defend himself as it came at him again.

A blast rang out and the demon fell to it's knees, blood blossoming from a ragged hole in it's back. Skye was standing behind it, a shotgun held in her hands, her face dark with a mother's rage. Chambering another round, Skye moved in closer to the demon as it turned slowly towards her. Before it had a chance to react, she pulled the trigger again, it's head disappearing in an explosion of red. Thick, black smoke poured out of the neck and slid into the ground next to the body as it toppled over and lay still.

Skye held her ground for a moment, making sure the body was truly dead…the danger over, before she dropped the shotgun and rushed to Dean's side. He was already on his knees and he accepted Skye's help to stagger to his feet, still a little unsteady. " Mama bear huh? Remind me not to piss you off…" He pulled Skye close and planted a kiss on her forehead as he saw the tears forming in her eyes and the tremble settling into her limbs.

Several figures were approaching the house through the fields. The demon apparently hadn't been alone after all. " Skye, get in the car. We need to get out of here. Now."

" My laptop…Connor's things.." Skye started for the house, but Dean stopped her.

" I'll get them. Get in the Impala and wait for me. I mean it."

Skye hesitated for a moment, until Dean snapped at her. " Now, Skye! The keys are in her, get her started and wait for me."

That was all it took. Skye made for the Impala, sliding into the driver's seat and kicking the engine over a moment later, almost crying at the way the muscle car responded with a throaty growl. She reversed out of the barn and slid over to the passenger side as Dean reappeared from the house with their things, throwing them in the back of the car and climbing in behind the wheel. " We'll get another crib for Connor later…we're out of time."

The Impala bit down deep, spraying gravel and dirt as Dean planted his foot and they roared out of the farm yard, just as the other figures reached the house and watched their prey slip away.

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Away in the safety of the air, John had witnessed Dean and Skye's escape. His wings were beating the air gently, holding him aloft as he cradled Connor carefully in his arms. The little boy was clinging to him, trusting him implicitly, despite the fact they were so far from the ground. " Hey…you okay, little buddy?"

" Want Mommy.."

" I know you do, Connor and I'm gonna take you too her in a little bit, okay? Right now, you're safer here with me. " John explained, glancing down to check on Connor's neck, relieved to see the cut was superficial and already clotting. " Did I ever tell you Dean's afraid of flying?"

Connor looked up then, narrowing his bright little eyes at John. " Dee scared?"

" Yup. He hates flying. Always said that if man was meant to fly? He'd have wings…"

" Poppy have wings." Connor had taken to calling John that within days of them meeting and the Hunter had never tried to dissuade him from it. It felt good…like a chance he had almost lost forever, was being given to him again.

" Yeah…guess that means I was meant to fly huh?" John cocked an eyebrow at Connor, smiling as they sailed on an updraught, following Dean and Skye as the Impala raced long a highway, putting as much distance from the farmhouse as they could.

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" Can you see them?" Dean asked, craning his neck forward and trying to see out the windscreen to the sky above them. Skye wound down her window and slipped her head out, looking up and almost crying with relief as she spotted John above them.

" I see them. He's just to the right of us, keeping pace."

" You know, I never thought I'd be so happy to have my Dad be a half demon…" Dean admitted. " He saved the day back there. Just like he always did…" He smiled, remembering time after time in his youth when his father had charged to the rescue on a hunt and saved him or Sam from something. Even if it meant he got hurt in the process. It had been a hard blow for Dean when that stopped, when the hunt for the Demon had taken over his father's life and Dean had been left alone to retrieve Sam from Stanford. It was reassuring for Dean to have that again and know that his back was being watched.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Dean frowned as he spotted a battered looking pickup barreling down the road, gaining on them. " Skye, get back inside the car, now."

Skye looked behind her, seeing the truck as it rushed at them, a gunshot ringing out and shattering the back window. With a scream, Skye ducked down as low as she could while Dean planted his foot on the gas pedal. The Impala surged forward, giving all she had, but the truck was still gaining and within minutes, it was slamming into the back of them. Dean fought with the wheel after each impact, swearing loudly and looking over his shoulder, trying to figure out how to outmaneuver the truck.

In the back of the pickup, a demon lifted his semiautomatic rifle and steadied himself for a moment, before he took aim, letting loose with a salvo of bullets that hit him with deadly accurancy……

John had been trying to keep an eye on Connor while he watched the chase unfolding below him. It had never occurred to him that he was a target and it wasn't until the bullets shattered his left wing, that he realised his mistake. It was impossible to stay airborne, his wing torn to shreds, bloodied feathers drifting loose as he plummeted towards the ground, Connor screaming and clinging to him.

Rolling over mid-air, John made the little boy look at him. " Hey…Connor…Hey! Look at me. It's gonna be okay, dude. I've got you…just hang on tight. You give Poppy one of those big bear hugs like you always do, okay? Don't let go…you just keep squeezing. Can you do that?"

Connor nodded, his face wet with tears as he pressed himself against John. Wrapping his wings as tightly as he could around the little boy, John braced himself for the impact with the ground, trying to come in as best he could to ease the speed they would hit with. He had no idea if he would even survive it…but all that mattered was that he took the full force and shielded Connor.

Back in the Impala, Skye was gripping the window frame, her eyes locked in horror on the sight of John and Connor rushing towards the ground. " Oh my god…Dean, John's hit. He's falling. They're falling!" Hysteria was flooding her voice.

Dean looked out through the windscreen, his heart hammering in his chest. No…not again. He couldn't lose his father again….and Connor. Hell no, it was too much. " Hang on…."

Locking up the brakes, Dean swung the Impala out the way of the pickup, letting it sail past them, before he slammed the muscle car back into gear and charged after it, the engine roaring angrily. The Impala ate up the road hungrily, gaining on the truck until Dean was pulling up alongside. With a snarl of rage, he slammed his beloved car in the truck in a pit maneuver, making it spin wildly and loose control altogether until it's tyres dug into the loose dirt beside the road and the truck flipped, throwing the demon on the back through the air. It rolled wildly through a fence into a field and lay still, smoking. The occupants not moving.

Dean then swung the wheel to the right and charged through the field, seeing his father coming closer and closer until he hit hard, creating a furrow as he impacted. The Impala slid to a halt nearby and both Dean and Skye were out of it in seconds running to John. Skye could hardly see for the tears in her eyes as she reached him and saw her little boy lying tightly clutched in John's arms. " Connor…sweetie?" Her world was falling apart before her eyes.

With a twitch of movement, Connor moved, then began to cry, pushing himself upright and looking around for his mother until he saw Skye. His tiny arms thrust up towards her and he bawled loudly as he was snatched up into Skye's arms. She stroked his hair and rubbed his back, sobbing uncontrollably.

Dean had fallen to his knees beside his father, fighting back tears as he felt for pulse and finding one there, thready…but there. John's wings had taken the full brunt of the impact, one of them lying a good ten feet away of them, having been sheared off with the force of the landing and leaving behind a bloody stump. " Dad? Dad…come on, dude, open your eyes. Dad!"

There was no answer, but the fact there was a pulse gave Dean hope. He carefully rolled his father over and studied his injuries. The other wing was hanging in tattered shreds, blood still oozing through the thick brown dirt from the field. John's back was badly torn up and Dean knew he would be picking stones and other debris out of those wounds before he got his father properly cleaned up. " Skye…is Connor okay?" Dean looked up, sill propping John up, not wanting to let go of him.

Skye had been checking Connor over for any sign of injury, but found only the small cut on his neck. " He's fine." Her voice hitched as she approached the two men, seeing the state John was in. " Will….will he be okay?"

" He's gonna be fine." The tone in Dean's voice said it all. He was done losing people he loved. " Skye, put Connor in the car. I need to help Dad."

" But…"

" Please, Skye. I don't want him seeing this." Dean pleaded.

Skye nodded, carrying Connor to the car and strapping him into his seat before grabbing the bear that had fallen onto the floor. " Hey…hey, look, Connor. It's Mr Woobie…you want to give him a cuddle? I think he needs one." She smiled, tears brimming her eyes as the little boy buried his face in the bear, squeezing it tightly.

Dean carefully laid his father back down, then went to the trunk of the Impala, finding it full of weapons again, obviously stocked by his father while Dean had been in a coma. Taking a large knife, he went back to John and gritting his teeth in disgust, cut away what was left of the other wing, seeing a small spurt of blood that quickly eased. Slinging his arm over his shoulder, Dean struggled to pull his father up and carry him – more dragging him really – to the Impala, opening the back door and carefully sliding John into the backseat. He looked so bloody and limp that it scared Dean, but he swallowed that back down and shot Connor a tight smile before he closed the back door and climbed into the driver's seat.

Skye was already in the passenger seat, watching him. " Where do we go now?"

" I've got an idea…" Dean assured her, recalling the area he had seen in his dream. It was a truck stop he had pulled into with Sam that time they went back to deal with the house….when they had met Missouri and Dean had watched his mother burn again. Nothing more than an area of dirt for the trucks to park in….but Dean still recalled it perfectly. " We need to head to Lawrence, Kansas."

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_So there we go... John's hurt, and they have a destination at last...but what are they gonna find there? You'll have to wait to see. LOL _


	9. The Torn Soul

_A/N: And now we cut back to Sammy to see how he's doing…which, well, let's just say Sam's not who he used to be. evil laugh Be warned, guys…this is a very dark chapter. I did categorize it as Horror/Angst after all…_

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**Just outside of Wamego, Kansas…**

It was the end of the world….and Sam was stuck in a traffic jam. He should have known really. Lawrence had only been a staging point for the forces of Hell.

The demons were spreading across the country like a fast and deadly cancer. Smothering towns, sliding un-noticed into cities until it was too late to stop them. It wasn't until communication was taken out, that the human world truly sat up and took notice of the Hell that had literally been unleashed on earth. It was funny how people would try and turn a blind to what was happening around them, until it was on their doorstep….and then? It was too late to stop it.

The demons were growing in strength with each passing hour. Sam could feel it, could feel his own power growing along with them. It must have been a so called perk of the Yellow Eyed Demon's plans for him. He needed to be as strong, if not stronger, than the demonic army he was supposed to lead. But all Sam wanted was to kill as many as he could before they finally realised that he would never be what they wanted, that he couldn't…_wouldn't_ be turned. Sam would go out in style, taking as many demon sons of bitches with him as he could in the name of his brother.

The dream was still plaguing him, rolling under his skin like an infection. Dean had seemed so real this time and Sam wanted that more than anything in the world. All the times he had ever taken his brother's presence for granted, haunted him now. Now that Dean was gone, the echo of his life was more than Sam could take. He desperately missed the banter, the stupid pranking, the mullet rock…just Dean. It was void that would never, ever be filled.

Tapping his fingers irritably on the wheel of the red pickup he had taken back in Lawrence, Sam wished there was more on the radio than just static or the government emergency alert system constantly droning out it's suggestions of staying calm and letting the National Guard keep the peace. Like that was going to do much. They'd be better off being home with their own families before the end came.

Sam thought about his dream again, how Dean spoke of finding Skye and Connor. Were they dead too? Or was it just Sam's mind, trying to give his brother the life he always deserved?

Glancing at his watch, Sam realised that he'd been sat here for an hour without moving. Complete and utter gridlock. Some kid in a station wagon in front of him was trying to amuse himself with an Action Man, having it crawl on it's belly across the back seat. A muscle twitched in Sam's jaw for a moment, before he put his hand on the door handle and climbed out of the pickup. Shouldering a duffel bag of clothes he'd gathered, Sam started walking through the rows of cars, ignoring the people within them. The further he walked, the more he could sense them.

Demons. Just ahead of him….and a lot of them.

A sense of foreboding crawled over Sam as he pushed forward, sensing that something was coming, something very bad was about to happen up ahead and none of these people around him had any idea. It was possible that most of them wouldn't survive either, not that Sam cared. All that he cared about was ahead of him, towards the beginning of the grid lock. Sam couldn't afford to care any more. Mom, Jess, Dad….Dean. They'd all died because of him. How could he care about anything and not risk losing another part of himself in the process?

But then, Sam knew he father wasn't dead. His father was out there somewhere…a demon himself. Just another little reminder for Sam of how much he had cost his family by being the Yellow Eyed Demon's favored one. His father had become what he had always hunted. Sam would have to deal with that when the time came, give his father the peace that was rightfully his.

The sound of a baby crying caught Sam's attention and he looked to his left to see a rusty blue sedan parked bumper to bumper with the car in front of it. A tired looking couple were sitting inside, a baby bouncing on his mother's lap as she tried to calm him. An older boy sat in the back, watching Sam with big eyes, taking in everything with a quiet intelligence that instantly had Sam thinking of Dean. He stopped beside the driver's window, looking towards the direction of the demons, then glancing back down at the car next to him. " Get out."

" Excuse me?"

Sam turned his attention fully to the man in the car. " Take your family and start running…go. Now."

" Look, buddy…I don't know who you are, but you can't just-…."

" Your family is going to die if you stay here. Now get out, take your family….and run. Tell as many as you can to do the same. Go now." Sam was speaking quietly, but forcefully, pushing home the seriousness of his words. " You don't want to be around for what's coming…"

Sam started walking again, hearing the family vacating their car behind him, the calm yet frightened words of the parents as they spoke to their children and started pounding on the roofs of other cars, trying to spread the word. ..._Saving people, hunting things. The family business. _ It was funny how even now, Dean was able to give Sam's conscience a reminder of what mattered. That it was protecting the innocent, that was important still. _I mean, our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. _

A smile appeared briefly on Sam's face, recalling the hunt for the Wendigo, how Dean had tried to teach him even back then, what mattered. " I'm trying, Dean…I'm trying. It's just getting harder to remember sometimes."

As he finally reached the head of the gridlock, Sam could see what the problem was. The National Guard had the road blocked off, only letting through car at a time as they checked ID's and tried to keep everything calm, ordered. There was a car parked at the makeshift gates, the man arguing loudly with the guardsman there, demanding to be let through to see his family, that they no right to stop him from getting through. Sam's hand was already reaching for the gun he had nestled down the back of his jeans. " Sargeant, don't let the man through!"

The Guardsman looked up at Sam as he approached. " Stay back, sir. I have the situation under control. You have to wait your turn like all the others."

" You've got no idea what you're dealing with…" Sam muttered, ignoring the guard and slipping his gun from his jeans, keeping it behind him. " Christo."

The man stopped yelling at the Guardsman and spun around towards Sam, his eyes inky black. " You!"

Sam gave the man a small smile. " Yeah…" Whipping the gun up, Sam sighted in the man and pulled the trigger before anyone could react. The bullet tore out the back of the man's skull and he crumpled to the ground. A thick black cloud of smoke ooozed out of him and slipped into the ground un-noticed as all hell broke loose around Sam. He held the gun up on one finger, letting it hang loosely to show he meant no further harm. Everywhere he looked, he could see guns aimed at him, people barking orders.

The Sargeant he had spoken to before had an M-16 pointed at Sam. " Sir, get down on your knees, keeping your hands where I can see them at all times."

Sam complied, not wanting any trouble. He wasn't afraid of being arrested. Escaping these guys was a walk in the park with what he could do now. But he still needed to get through the barricade and if he could do that without there being more bloodshed? That was all the better. With any luck, he'd get a ride all the way to Denver and be able to avoid any more gridlock too. The call he had been feeling for days was still drawing Sam, telling him where the gathering place of the demons were…so he could destroy as many as he could…maybe even the Yellow Eyed bastard himself before he was taken down. He had to keep moving, had to push through these barriers and head for that meeting place before it was too late.

It was probably what that demon had been trying to do as well before Sam stopped him. He couldn't feel sorry for the man whose body had been worn like a cheap suit. Sam knew these demons were stronger. They burnt out the person as they took them over, destroyed the mind, hollowed them out and just used to body to move. All Sam had done was give the guy peace…the demon he would still have to deal with later.

There was a split second before the gunshot rang out, that Sam saw the change come over the Sargeant. The man had walked up to Sam, gun still trained on him. Then in seconds, his eyes flashed black, a cold sneer on the man's face as he spun and fired at one of his fellow Guardsman nearby. The bullet tore through his head, dropping the corporal to the ground with a bloody third eye, his mouth still open in a shocked 'O' of surprise.

" He shot Richards! Take him down!" The Sargeant yelled, already turning his weapon back on Sam with a dark smile. " Take them all down!"

All around Sam, the National Guardsman opened up firing. One bullet sliced through Sam's side, the pain white hot as he was spun by the force of it, slamming to the ground hard enough to taste blood as his lip tore open. Not another bullet touched him as Sam pushed out with his power, the bullets exploding instead just inches from him as he sat back up, then dragged himself to his feet. Now Sam could see that the demon had already called reinforcements, more and more National Guardsman were staring out of inky black eyes as they fired round after round.

Any civillian that had still been sat in their car or had been standing near by watching, was being shot down without any thought of mercy. Sam saw a young girl, no more than 17, take a round to the back as she ran screaming.

A roar of rage tore from Sam and in the blink of an eye, an explosion erupted from him, the Guardsmen around him coming apart like water balloons filled with red paint. Walking forward, Sam threw the makeshift wooden security gate aside with a wave of his hand, his eyes sweeping back and forth, searching for guardsmen. Each time he saw a gun, or sensed a threat, it was gone within seconds, nothing but a bloody smear against a wall or vehicle.

Now that he was through the barricade, Sam could see what had really been happening. There was no National Guard keeping the peace. All around Sam were hundreds of cars filled with bodies. Anyone that had been allowed through the gate, had been killed on the other side. This was what Sam had sensed before, this was the danger he had warned the family about. It was no longer a world that you could trust anyone in. The demons had control and they were going to take out the whole human race. How many more of these barricades had been set up? How many more people were locked in gridlock across the country? Waiting quietly to drive to their deaths like sheep in an abbatoir?

By the time Sam had entered Wamego, he was exhausted, he was hurting and there wasn't a demon within 30 miles. Sam had made sure of that and he was damn sure the Yellow Eyed Demon would be pissed that he had thinned the demon ranks significantly. The city had been decimated, just as Lawrence had been. Sam wondered how many had gotten away? Had any of them? How long had the demons been in control of the National Guard there? What about the other neighbouring cities?

Sam would have to stay off the main roads for sure now. If he was held up for too long, fighting masses of demons, it simply gave the Yellow Eyed Demon more time to gather more troops, slaughter more people.

But Sam couldn't think of that right now…he could barely think because of how tired he was. His side was sticky with blood and Sam was finding it harder and harder to put one foot in front of the other. Medical supplies, that was what he needed. Patch up the wound, get some rest, maybe even have something to eat. Looking around, Sam could see that most buildings were empty, abandoned. A drugstore was beckoning him, it's front windows shattered, but with any luck…there was still plenty of stuff left behind by looters for him to use. The smell of death greeted Sam as he stepped through the broken window and headed towards the first aid supplies. A young man lay near the back door, still in his white pharmacists coat. It looked at though he'd been shot in the back while trying to run. The medicinal supplies area had been well and truly ransacked, but Sam was able to find a bottle of painkillers that would help him for the time being. He makde sure to get enough bandages and some antiseptic liquid, putting it all his duffel bag.

Once he was satisfied that he could tend to his wound properly, Sam left the drugstore and walked the main street again, looking for a 7-11 or even a small mini mart that would provide him with food. He found one a couple of blocks from the drugstore. The 7-11 had been ransacked as well, but he was at least able to heat up a couple of frozen burritos in the store microwave. Tucking away several cans of Coke into his duffel bag, Sam cracked one open and drank deeply, closing his eyes as the cold liquid soothed his dry throat. Lifting the can to press it to his head, the coldness was a sharp contrast to the heat Sam knew he was radiating, his body struggling to heal the wound in his side.

There was footstep behind him, Sam already turning, cursing himself for letting his guard down, for letting his injury distract him. The movement was too quick, too voilent. Pain blossomed like a mushroom cloud out from his side and Sam's vision suddenly started to turn gray, then black as he felt his knees buckle under him. He crumpled to the ground, everything fading out as a soft hand went to his face and he heard a strange female voice speaking, thick with panic and an accent he couldn't recognise.

" Shit, mate…are you alright?"

Sam tried to speak, but everything was spiralling away from him as he sank further and further into the darkness until he knew nothing.

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	10. Forces Converging

_Again, thanks for the feedback, guys! You are all awesome! Hope you enjoy this chapter…_

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**Lawrence, Kansas.**

" Come on ,goddammit, just a little further sweetheart, just a little bit more." Bobby Singer wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more, himself or his damned blue tow truck, having driven all through the night and now into the morning. The windscreen was gone, Bobby having been forced to punch it out after it was shot to hell by supposed National Guard back in Lecompton. He'd taken a round in the shoulder that had gone clean through, leaving the seat behind him wet with his blood. All Bobby was grateful for now, was that he had decided to go through Lecompton and not Topeka. Some how he didn't think he'd have gotten away if that was the case. The demon forces were growing faster than anyone had predicted, overwhelming the few hunters that had tried making a stand against them. The whole Hunter community was on the run now. Ellen and Jo had gone to ground with Ash, knowing that they were more use to Bobby and the others alive, rather than dead.

Bobby had been told to keep out of sight, just keep his head down while everyone regrouped. But as smart as that would have been, Bobby had to see Missouri. The psychic had been able to get hold of him before phone communication had been completely cut and what she had told him was the last thing the aging hunter had wanted to hear.

Dean was dead. Sam had gone dark, driven over the edge by grief from what Missouri had told him. Those boys were like kin to Bobby and it broke his heart to think of what had happened. That Yellow Eyed bastard had already taken Mary and John, now he had to have the boys too? If there was a way to get the colt back and use it against the Demon? Bobby would do it. He'd put an end to the pain that son of a bitch had caused the people Bobby cared for.

Once he had found Missouri and knew she was safe, Bobby would make a trip to see Skye, hopefully find her and that little boy still alive. He'd tried contacting her via email, but the internet was yet another casualty to the demons in their uprising. Ham radio was now the only thing left and Bobby had no idea how long that would last. The world was going to hell in a handbasket, that was for sure.

The engine of his tow truck was starting to sputter a little. For all Bobby knew, he'd had a bullet through the damned radiator. Patting the steering wheel with one hand, he hoped the truck would last him. He swung into the street where Missouri's house had used to be, finding the whole street devoid of any signs of life, some houses still smoking. Lawrence wasn't even a warzone…it was a corpse. Everything was so still, the scent of death hanging so heavy in the air that Bobby had to fight the urge to gag as he pulled the truck to the curb and felt her surge, then die altogether. The tow truck had served him well, but she was gone now. He'd have to find another vehicle.

By all rights, Missouri wasn't even supposed to be here anymore. She'd called Bobby from the Roadhouse, before muttering something about how the end was coming and she was going to go back home to wait for it. Bobby had no idea what the hell that meant but he sure as hell hoped it wasn't bad news. Climbing out of the truck, Bobby took a handgun off the seat beside him and carefully made his way towards the ruins of the house, grimacing at the pain in his shoulder. He was getting too old for this. At his age, he should have been sat back fishing on river bank with John and Jim Murphy, the three of them swapping hunting stories and cold beers. But then, it was rare for any hunter to live to old age….John and Jim had proven that already and Bobby couldn't help but wonder when his number would come up?

" You planning on bleeding all over my floor all night, Bobby Singer?"

Bobby spun around, startled, the gun already coming up to bear on voice to his right, until he stopped himself and lowered the gun with a scowl. " Dammit, Missouri, I could have taken your damn head off!"

" Not that with shoulder, you wouldn't." Missouri replied, a scowl of her own on display. " What are you doing here, Bobby? I thought I made it clear on the phone that I wanted to be left alone?"

" You said you were going home to wait for the end. What the hell was that supposed to mean?"

" Exactly what I said. This is my home. If I'm gonna die? I'm gonna die right here." Missouri folded her arms defensively across her chest, her back ramrod straight as she dared Bobby to challenge her.

Bobby looked around the shattered remains of the house. " So what…you're gonna sit here til the end of the world? How the hell is that any sort of way to go?"

"Bobby Singer, are you trying to tell me what to do?" Missouri demanded.

" Well….hell, yeah I am." Bobby nodded. " That's gotta be the stupidest thing I ever damn well heard. I can count my friends….the ones I can trust, I mean, on one hand, Missouri. I'm not looking to lower that number any time soon. So quit being so damn stubborn and show me where your car is. It high time we got the hell out of here before those demons find us standing around, begging to have our throats slit."

" You're not driving my car like that, Bobby. " Missouri snapped, before her demeanor softened and she stepped forward to check his shoulder. " I think I still have what's left of a first aid kit in the back of the car, come on…let's get you patched up before your sorry ass passes out on me." She held up a hand to quieten his argument as it started to form on his lips. " Don't try telling me your fine, I don't have to be psychic to see you're as white as a sheet. Now get over here and sit down."

Bobby tried to smack Missouri's hand away as she took his arm, only to regret it a moment later when she smacked him in return. " You trying to make me angry?" The huff of air that blew out of Bobby's mouth as he gave in, brought a smile to the psychic's face. " I didn't think so…"

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" Dean…we need to stop."

" Not til we hit Lawrence." Dean was fully focused on the road ahead, his arms braced stiffly on the steering wheel. Every so often he would glance into the rearview mirror at the unconscious and bloody form of his father, a shiver running down his spine as he recalled Sam doing the same thing to him, right before a semi-trailer slammed into the Impala.

" Dean, please…Connor's hungry. We need to clean John up, dress his wounds, you've been hurt yourself." Skye pleaded. She'd been watching him for the past two hours, noting the way he took shallow breaths to try and restrict movement in his ribs. How the hell he had dragged John to the car in that state?

" I'm fine. It's just a few bruised ribs."

" The way that demon threw you around, I'd say they're more than just bruised. Will you at least let me drive?"

" No."

Skye rolled her eyes in frustration. " What, so I can babysit the car while you and Sam cruise around the countryside on America's Most Wanted. But I can't drive now that you're back?"

" That's not…" Dean took his eyes off the road for a moment and looked at Skye, his brow knotted with a frown. " I haven't driven her in a while, can't you cut me some slack?"

" Not when you're pulling that macho tough guy act. You pass out at the wheel? And there is no way in hell I can pull this car back under control. " Skye argued, wishing he would see some sense. " Dean, you're no good to me, your Dad…or Sam if you don't look after yourself. Please…let me drive so you can rest?"

" No." Dean snapped. " We're almost to Lawrence. I'm getting closer to Sam, dammit. I can feel it. I can feel him. We don't stop til we reach Missouri."

" Missouri? Now you're planning on driving to the next state??"

Dean snorted out a short laugh until his ribs protested and he was forced to stop or deal with his vision swimming. " Not the state. It's a person. Missouri Mosley. She's a psychic in Lawrence and a friend. If she's still there…"

Skye reached over and rested a hand on Dean's thigh, gently giving it a squeeze before she ran her thumb in a lazy pattern back and forth. She was rewarded with Dean giving her a tight smile, but there was a light in his eyes. It wasn't shining as brightly as it did with Sam around, but Skye had hope that it would again soon. If he could sense Sam, that had to be giving him hope.

A groan issued from the back seat as John shifted and cracked open one eye for a moment. Dean met his tired gaze in the rearview mirror. " Hang in there, Dad. We're nearly home…"

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" Will you quit fussing over me, woman? I'm fine!" Bobby slapped at Missouri's hand as she rechecked the bandage wrapped tightly around his shoulder. " We should be getting on the road. Those demons might do another sweep of Lawrence, looking for stragglers, especially since Sam came through here." Pausing to think, Bobby watched Missouri turn away from where he was sat in the passenger seat, to tuck the nearly empty first aid kit in the back of her small sedan. " Just how bad is it? Sam…is he? Is there any way we can save him?"

" I don't know." Missouri admitted softly, sitting down in the back seat, her feet hanging out of the car still as she looked over the back of the seat at Bobby. " The boy is hurting, Bobby. He's in a world of hurt without his brother. If you had seen the things that boy showed me…." Her voice trailed off as she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. " I'm not sure anything can stop him, Bobby. Not now."

The deep, familiar rumble of an engine Bobby would know anywhere, broke the quietness of the street. Parked at the back of Missouri's ruined home, the sedan was shielded from the road. Bobby stood up instantly, silently signaling Missouri to stay out of sight as he drew his gun and quietly slipped forward towards the road, needing to see with his own eyes, what his ears were telling him. There was no way that could be the Impala he was hearing. That car had been left with Skye…why the hell would she be in Lawrence? No, it had to be another car…

But the moment Bobby saw the black muscle car pull up outside the house, he felt his heart begin racing. It was downright pounding, setting up a drumbeat inside his skull as he watched a familiar face climb out from the driver's side, followed by Skye from the other side of the car. Keeping his gun aimed, he approached the pair carefully, keeping hidden so he could hear their conversation.

" Maybe she got away?"

" Yeah, maybe. Dammit… I was hoping Missouri could tell me something. Tell me if she'd seen Sam. " Dean bent over to pick up a piece of burnt wood, tossing it aside with a sharp grunt of pain, his arm snaking around his middle to nurse his ribs.

" Will you take it easy? I'm not playing nursemaid to you and John. Those Winchester looks only get you so far, pal…" Skye scolded, before a concerned smile appeared. " Do you need to sit down?"

" I'm fine. I just moved the wrong –…" Dean froze, his hand instantly reaching into the back of his jeans for his gun, while he signaled to Skye to get behind him. " Alright…who's there? Come out where I can see you."

Bobby stepped out, his own gun still trained on Dean. " That you, Dean? That really you?"

" Bobby…." Dean's face broke into a warm, friendly smile instantly. " What are you doing here? Is Missouri with you?" He saw Bobby's gun still trained on him, his eyes narrowing a little as his smile faded. " It's me, Bobby. Come on… put the gun down."

" How do I know it's you? Last I heard? You were dead…"

" Bobby…it's me. You know me, dude. You want to throw Christo at me? Splash me with holy water? Go for it…" Dean spread his arms in an invitation. He blinked a moment later when a splash of holy water slapped him in the face, Skye laughing behind him at the way he shook his head a moment later like a dog. Dean raised an eyebrow at Bobby, holy water still dripping from his hair and chin. " Satisfied?"

Bobby watched Dean for a few more seconds before he tucked his gun away, striding across the space between them to embrace the boy. " Jesus, Dean…you're supposed to be dead!"

A grunt of pain issued from Dean, before he gently pushed Bobby back a step or two, his ribs aching again from the hug. The fact Bobby had done that at all, told Dean how much the man genuinely cared for him and his family.

" Yeah, funny thing about us Winchesters…we're harder to kill than a cockroach." Dean flashed Bobby a grin as the back door of the Impala opened and with a tired groan and enough swearing to turn the leather interior blue, a battered figure climbed out, leaning heavily on the car.

" Hey! You teach Connor any of that potty mouth and we'll be having words…" Skye warned, glaring over her shoulder.

Bobby stared in shock, his mouth dropping open before he clamped it shut again, looking from the figure, to Dean, then back to the figure again. " John?"

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**Medicine Bow,** **South Wyoming.**

There was something particularly amusing about his appearance that had the Yellow Eyed Demon smiling when he really had no reason to smile. Because to be honest? He wasn't have the best day. The best week, for that matter. It was supposed to have been so simple, something he had put into place years before with his own blood fed to the little pup before Mommy had to walk in and almost spoil everything. Sam was supposed to be at his right hand, was supposed to be leading his army for him while he sat back and watched the spoils of war roll in. But no….the ungrateful little bastard had decided to turn on his Maker, bite the hand that fed him all those delicious powers the little shit was now using, to wipe out the very army he was supposed be leading.

There was gratitude for you. Although to be fair…with a father like John Winchester, the Demon supposed he should have expected no less from the boy. Perhaps he should have chosen Dean? That one had always seemed to enjoy following orders, being the good soldier. Sometimes it just didn't pay to back the dark horse.

" Don't you think that's a little disturbing?"

The Demon turned to find one of his Captain's, a lovely young girl called Ava, watching him. He looked down at the body he was wearing. " Oh? I thought it would rather amusing on Halloween, what do you think? Is it me?"

Ava looked at the elderly priest staring at her with yellow eyes and shrugged, her nose still wrinkled in distaste. " Whatever floats your boat, I guess? You wanted to see me?"

" Yes. The Winchester boy…it's just not working out like I'd hope it would. It's time to take him out of the equation. Think you can handle it?"

Ava thought back to the sweet natured guy that had tried to help her. Before the Demon had appeared and shown her just how much she was missing out on by not utilizing her powers properly. It had been a sweeter ride after that and Ava had been disappointed that Sam couldn't see it. It had to have been the fault of that stupid brother of his. Well that was something that could be remedied, two birds with one stone. " Yeah… I have an idea that should do the trick nicely. I'll need to take Gallagher with me."

" Andy? Be my guest, sniveling little stoner's no good to me anyway. Get going. I want Sam stopped before he crosses the stateline." The Demon watched Ava walk out and wondered if she had any idea of the punishment he would inflict if she screwed this up? Maybe it was better she didn't… surprises were so much more fun.

Three more days…three more days and it would be time to open the Hell's Gate. Then the world really would find out what Hell on Earth was like. It was enough to make the Demon want to sing…..

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	11. Betrayal

_A/N: As always, I have to thank both my hubby and my mate, LovinJackson aka Tara, for their help and support. I have a new video based on these fics at my Youtube account if anyone wants to take a peek? The link can be found in my bio... or email me and I'll send you a link. The next chapter or two will be wrapping up this story in the trilogy, guys, so buckle up...cause things are gonna get bumpy. _

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The first thing Sam noticed when he woke up, was that he wasn't in the 7-11 anymore. A rather cartoonish car patterned wallpaper greeted his eyes as he finally blinked them open and looked at his surroundings. It was a kid's bedroom. Toy soldiers, race cars and an assortment of action men stared at him from various shelves around the room. Sitting up slowly, tucking one hand in to his side and feeling a fresh, clean bandage there, Sam tried to work out how the hell he had gotten where he was?

His first thought, was that Dean had saved his ass again from a hunt. But no….that wasn't right. Dean was dead.

Scrubbing a hand over his face and scooping his mop-like hair out of his eyes, Sam huffed out a weary sigh, wishing for a moment that he hadn't woken up. This whole thing of being the last Winchester was really starting to wear him down. He wanted to be done, over. He wanted to be able to rest knowing he had avenged his family. A hint of smile played across his lips as he thought about Dean, hearing him saying that he should just suck it up and deal. How he was such a emo bitch at times. And Dean was right about that, not that Sam would have ever admitted it to Dean's face…the smugness would have been unbearable.

For a moment, Sam's chin quivered, tears filling his eyes. He would give anything, everything, to see that smug grin again.

There was someone walking around out in the other room and Sam got his feet, his senses on alert as he opened the bedroom door, slipping out with the quiet grace of a hunter. He was down the hallway and into the livingroom without making a sound, catching the person completely offguard and throwing them up against the wall with a flick of his head. It was a girl, maybe a year or so younger than Sam, with short hair and a pretty, sculpted face that probably had a stunning smile….when it wasn't filled with fear.

" Who are you? What do you want?"

" Jesus, mate…settle down. You're one of them, aren't you? Like those bloody soldiers that came through here?" The girl asked from where she was pinned, trying to pull free and failing. " I was just trying to help you. You collapsed at my feet."

Sam frowned for a moment, trying to recall what had happened. He had vague memories of the pain in his side as he'd turned, then everything fading out. Studying the girl for a moment, Sam released her, unable to sense anything other than a human being before him. " You shouldn't be here."

" Right bloody brain's trust, aren't we?" The girl snapped, edging away from Sam, watching him carefully. " Trust me, mate…if I knew you were gonna get all frigging Obi-Wan on me? I'd have left you lying on your arse and cleared out. But no, I had to play good Samaritan, didn't I?"

Sam frowned at the girl. " Hey, no one asked you to. You don't know me…I could have been anyone."

" Or any_thing_, judging by what you did a moment ago."

" I'm not the enemy here." Sam informed her, turning away and walking into the kitchen. He looked around at his surroundings, then glanced back at the girl. " Where are we?"

" Above the 7-11. I figured it would be more comfortable for you up here, mate. You were a right bloody mess when I found you. What happened? Someone take a pot shot at you while you were looting?" The girl dropped down into an armchair, dangling her legs over one armrest. " So what's your name? I had a look at your wallet, but you've got half a dozen cards in there and none of them are the same name."

" You went through my wallet?" Sam spun around and gave the girl an incredulous look that dissolved into a furious glare. His hand went straight to his back pocket, checking to see it was still there, finding the familiar shape tucked into his jeans.

" You were out of it, mate, bleeding all over the place. What did you want me to do? Wake you up so we could have a chat? I figured you were best off sleeping. You've got a bit more colour in your cheeks, anyway."

Sam lifted his shirt and looked at the thick white bandage that ran around his waist and covered the wound. Blood had started to seep through at one point, but where there should have been pain, there was nothing now. If anything, the area was itchy. Without a second thought, Sam removed the clip and peeled away the bandage to reveal a wound that was already closed and healing. " Huh."

" Pretty new for you, huh?" The girl inquired, looking at the wound. " It's a first for me too. I'm not used to playing nurse and I'm sure as hell not used to the guy healing up after a few hours. The way you were bleeding? I thought for sure you were a goner, mate. I'm glad you made it…it's been kinda lonely here on my own."

" Yeah. There's a lot of new things happening lately." Sam muttered softly. He looked up then, his face softening. " Thanks for doing that. I'm Sam."

" Elise. Nice to meet you, Sam. Are you a local?"

" Huh? No… no, I'm on my way to South Wyoming. How about you? That accent doesn't exactly sound American." Sam found himself smiling a little. He wanted to tell the girl to run, to get the hell away from him before something happened to her. But a part of him was desperate for the company. To have someone to talk to that didn't know him or what he could do…or wanted him dead.

" Australia. " Elise laughed, the sound more sad though, than genuine laughter. " I was back packing across the country, planning on meeting my brother in a few months in California. Trust the bloody world to end, huh?"

" You were back packing through Wamego?"

" Yeah. My brother, the big dork, thought it'd be funny if I got some photos of myself standing in front of all those Oz billboards for the museum. " Elise shrugged, then smiled. " He's a little warped with his humour sometimes. An Aussie in Oz just seemed amusing."

Sam's smile grew and he bobbed his head lightly in agreement. " Yeah, brothers can be like that."

" So what's in South Wyoming? Family?"

" No." Sam's smile slid away instantly. " It's just something I need to take care of. Something personal."

" You want some company?"

" What? No. No, this is dangerous." Sam said sharply, not expecting Elise to want to tag along. She barely knew him. Had no idea of what he had done and what he was able to do. Besides, Sam wasn't expecting to survive where he was going and that was fine by him. Just fine. Just as long as he took as many with him as he could. Then Sam could face his family without any shame, knowing he had done his best for them. " You should try going home."

" Home? What have you been smoking, mate? How am I supposed to get home? Steal a 747? Row a boat across the Pacific? I'm stranded here. And despite your little Jedi mind trick earlier? You're the first person I've seen in days that hasn't been rotting in the street or trying to take my bloody head off with a gun. I just figured it was safety in numbers, that's all."

" Not this time." Sam gave Elise an apologetic look. " I'm sorry. I really am. But you're better off on your own. Thanks again for helping me." He turned and left the apartment, taking the back stairs down to the alley behind the 7-11. There was a car sitting there, shot to hell and from the smell, Sam could tell that the bodies he could see slumped in the seats had been there a while. He gagged for a moment, then covered his face and slipped around the car, heading down the alleyway, his mind already on how he would get to South Wyoming. A battered little hatchback was parked through a window across the street, a blood stain on the front seat trailing out of the door and disappearing after a few feet. Sam briefly wondered if the driver had survived, then shrugged it off, figuring it was a moot point anyway.

The keys were still in the ignition and Sam turned the engine over before he tried to climb into the small car, a pleased smile appearing as the little hatchback roared to life. It took a bit of a squeeze for Sam to climb in, the seat adjustor pinching his hand as he slid the seat back as far as it would go. He'd still be cramped, but it would do and Sam wasn't exactly in a position to be choosy.

He was about to reverse out of the shop window, when the passenger door opened and Elise slid in, throwing his duffel bag and her backpack over into the back seat.

" Elise…what the hell? You can't come with me!" Sam protested, watching in amazement as the girl folded her arms and stayed right where she was. " Get out of the car!"

" No." Elise said stubbornly. " Look, Sam, I don't know what sort of shit you've got yourself into. I don't really care either. Now before you go getting your knickers in a knot? I'm just going with you to Wyoming, you're on your own after that. I'm not sure you've really got a grip on what's happening out there, mate…but the shit has hit the fan and after what happened back in that flat? I think I'm better off traveling with you, than on my own. So just deal with it…cause you're stuck with me for now." She reached out towards the car's tapedeck, her fingers brushing the buttons, before Sam slapped it away lightly and glared at her.

" House rules…driver picks the music, shotgun shuts her cakehole."

" You're kidding?" Elise demanded, backing down a moment later as his glare seemed to deepen. " Okay, okay…." She leaned her elbow on the window and turned her attention outside the car, giving Sam some space.

Sam pushed the cassette into the player and the sounds of Garth Brooks filled the car. Great….what he wouldn't have done there and then for a decent radio station still. Or some mullet rock. _You know, Dean? I never thought I'd actually miss that stupid music you listen to. _

The familiar ache in Sam's chest was back, that void that was left by Dean. It had opened up again the instant Sam heard his brother's voice coming out of his mouth, stating the "house rules". With a sigh, Sam swung the car out of the window and they set off towards the outskirts of Wamego. It was going to be a long trip to Wyoming, but as much as he was worried about having Elise with him, Sam had to admit, it was comforting not being alone with nothing but his thoughts or the ghost of his brother for company. In his mind, Sam could already hear Dean laughing, telling Sam to enjoy himself, to enjoy the fact his company was a pretty girl…but Sam didn't want to. He didn't want to feel anything anymore…..

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" It's not right…" Bobby said quietly from his chair near the window. They had all holed up in one of the more expensive hotels within Lawrence, figuring it was best to take a moment to allow them all to rest. Dean had chosen the hotel, quipping something about how it would be fun to stay in a top of the line room for once, instead of the fleapits they usually put up with. It gave them all rooms on the same floor, allowing Dean and Skye to have an adjoining room with John.

Bobby's eyes hadn't left John since the man – could he be called that anymore? – had climbed out of the Impala. John was dead. Dean and Sam had burnt the body after Bobby had helped them get it out of the hospital…so how the hell could he be sitting there across the room, while Dean tried to tend to John's wounds? Bobby knew what he'd been told, he'd sat and listened to both Dean and Skye, heard what had happened, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. John Winchester was a goddamn half demon now? Dean had demon blood him? Sam was darkside…Bobby didn't know what to make of it all anymore. What if that demon blood changed Dean? Made him like Sam? What if John turned on them?

" Will you quit moving!" Dean snapped in frustration as he dug another chunk of gravel out of his father's back. " Some of these are closing up, I'm having a hard enough time trying to pick this crap out of you, without you damn well moving around, Dad!"

" Don't you take that tone with me, Dean." John growled, then rolled his shoulders again, one hand reaching behind him in a futile effort to scratch his back. " It's itching like crazy!"

Dean stepped back and looked at the stumps that had once carried a stunning set of wings. It was incredible to see that in the space of only a few hours, the ragged, severed ends had closed and there were soft, downy black feathers already starting to re-sprout. John's back was the same, with only a few major gouges in the flesh still open, red and angry looking. On anyone else, the wounds would have been fatal. For a while after they had gotten John into the back of the Impala, Dean had thought they were. " Yeah, well, you're gonna have to suck it up and deal."

John turned, throwing his son a glare that could have cut through steel as the words he had drummed into his boys when they were young, were now being thrown back at him. Dean met his gaze coolly, almost expecting the words to start a fight and for a moment, no one in the room moved, waiting to see who would back down. In the end, it was Dean, taking a step back and handing John the bloody tweezers that had been used to pry loose any gravel and other debris. " Here. I'm done."

Without saying a word, John took the tweezers, giving Dean a curt nod. He hadn't meant to get Dean's back up and if he was honest with himself? He sure as hell hadn't expected his son to talk to him like that. But Dean wasn't a kid anymore and John realised now that he would have to work hard to make amends for all his failings as a father, both past and present. Sam may have been more vocal in voicing what was wrong, what had bugged the hell out of him about John and his parenting….but Dean had always tended to swallow it down, keep it to himself in order to keep the peace and keep his family together. It didn't mean he didn't feel the same resentments and pain, however.

Dean walked back to the dining table that was across the room. He slid out a chair and sat down, grimacing a little but noting that the pain he had felt in his ribs before was fading more and more. With Sam still out there somewhere, it was reassuring for Dean to know he wasn't going to be laid up recovering for days. There were several bottles of alcohol sitting before him on the table. Bobby had raided the hotel's restaurant, taking whatever had been left. Dean twisted the cap off a bottle of bourbon and threw it over his shoulder before he took a long hard slug of the bottle, feeling the bourbon scorch a path down his throat. A pleasant warmth began to spread through him, helping to ease the tension that had settled in Dean's shoulders. He could still see Bobby and Missouri sat near the window, watching them. Bobby was good at hiding his feelings, but Dean could see the apprehension in his eyes every time he looked at John.

It made sense really, Bobby had been a hunter too long to just take the news of John's return as a half demon as anything but suspicious. Hell, even Dean, deep down, had his own concerns that he would never voice. How could ever admit to not trusting your own father, to being worried what the blood in your veins could do to you? No, Dean understood Bobby's fears all too well….even if it hurt to admit it.

Skye was the one calming factor Dean had around him right now. She kept assuring him that they would find Sam, save him….and he wanted to believe her so badly. Needed to. Skye offered Dean everything he had thought was lost to him forever from the age of four. She would never hurt him like Cassie, didn't want anything from him that he couldn't give her. The tension in the room was still thick as Dean took another slug from the bottle and got up. " I'm going to check on Skye and Connor…you alright here?" He paused, waiting for a response from Bobby, needing to know that he was safe to leave his father with them. " Hey! Are you alright?"

Bobby's gaze whipped up to look at Dean, burning into him for a moment before he nodded. " We're okay here."

They were anything but okay. Dean knew that, but he let the matter lie and headed for the door that joined his suite with his father's. Skye was in the other suite, putting Connor down for a sleep and Dean just wanted to have some time alone with her. They had so much to catch up on, connections that needed to be remade.

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" John Winchester, just what the hell have you done to that boy?" Missouri demanded, hands planted firmly on her hips as she stood before him. " I can't read him anymore… it's almost like there's some kind of shielding in his mind, keeping me out."

" It's the demon blood." John stated simply, his hands folded under his head as he lay on one of the queensize beds and relaxed. Every so often, the stumps on his back would itch and John would roll his shoulders, rubbing them on the bed beneath him to scratch them. He was beginning to understand why animals rolled in sand to relief themselves of an itchy back.

" Does Dean have any idea?" Bobby asked, pouring himself a double of scotch and slamming it back.

" No, he doesn't. He's already freaked about the fact he heals faster, Bobby. There's no way I'm going to scare him more by telling him he's got psychic shielding."

Missouri let out a breath through her nose, her lips pressed together in grim displeasure as she paced the room. " I don't like this…I don't like this at all. It goes against everything you ever fought for John. You, your boys, you've become something you would have hunted."

" You think I don't know that?" John sat up then, eyeing Missouri sharply. He trusted the psychic, had known her so long, she was like family. " Those boys are all I have, dammit. I watched that bastard gut my son in front of me. In front of his brother! I had a chance…one chance, to save Dean. To save both my sons. I couldn't ignore that."

" What's dead…stays dead, John." Bobby said softly, pouring another shot of scotch.

" I know. I know how it works, Bobby. I know that it could have all gone wrong…but it's done. Dean's back and he's still the boy you knew before. You want to be angry? You go right ahead, you get angry with me. You come at me with your holy water and your goddamn latin! You take your anger out on me. I always said I would do anything for my sons….anything." John said firmly, his posture challenging Bobby and Missouri, daring them to take him on. He knew what he'd done was wrong, un-natural. But the hell with the rules. John had given enough, given his wife, his sons, his own life to this damn war…when was it enough?

No…John would never regret what he had done. Dean was alive, he had a chance to save his brother. There was nothing to regret.

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Skye found Dean sitting on the sofa, flipping idly through all the tv channels with the remote and finding nothing but the Government emergency alert playing. A bottle of bourbon was sat nestled between his knees. " You okay?"

" Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"Not for a moment." Skye smiled slightly.

" Didn't think so." Dean sighed, bringing the bottle to his lips. Skye sat down beside him and placed a hand on Dean's knee, watching him. It was so easy to look at that face, watch those eyes and wonder when she was going to wake up? It was still sinking in that he was back. No more nightmares, no more wondering where he was. He was here, close enough for her to touch…and yet she couldn't help but worry that it was all going to be gone again in the blink of an eye. As soon as Dean had finished taking a slug of bourbon, Skye took the bottle from him and took a drink for herself. The bourbon burnt it's way down her throat like acid and she coughed afterwards, screwing up her face, her eyes watering.

" Whoa… easy there, tiger. You trying to join the big leagues?" Dean cocked an eyebrow at her with a grin as he took the bottle back and sat it on the floor beside the sofa. " Maybe you'd better try mixing it next time."

" Are you implying I can't handle my bourbon? Cause I'm up for a challenge, mister…just you try me." Skye said indignantly, poking one slender finger into Dean's chest playfully as she smiled.

Dean watched her carefully, his eyes taking in every inch, before he suddenly leaned forward, capturing Skye's lips with his own. His hand slipped around to cup the back of her head as Skye leaned back into the sofa, Dean following her down and slowly planting long, soft kisses along her jaw, down her neck and to the neck of her shirt. Skye's hands went to the buttons on her shirt, before they were gently pulled away by Dean. " You trying to take my fun away?" He whispered huskily, nibbling and kissing her neck, sending ripples of pleasure through her body.

The buttons were gone within a minute, Dean trailing hot, tender kisses along the line of Skye's bras, his hands already snaking around to unclip the offending item……when a tiny howl came from the other room and Skye instantly froze, then sagged in disappointment.

" You've gotta be kidding me?" Dean pleaded, sitting up slightly as the sound of Connor crying became louder. " We seriously need to talk to this kid about his timing…"

" Tell me about it." Skye sighed, regretfully extracting herself from beneath Dean and buttoning her shirt again with a pout. " He keeps this up and I'll ground him until puberty." She leaned over and kissed Dean, trailing a finger along his jaw before she pulled away. " I'll be right back…"

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" Oh this was a great idea, Ava. The kids freaking out and I can't say I exactly blame him, you know? We just freaking beamed in here thanks to your trained monkeys. I'd be freaking out too." Andy grumbled, wishing he was anywhere else…or maybe so stoned, he wouldn't care anymore. It had been fun for a while, honing his powers, seeing where it could get him…the gay porn that asshole so deserved to see. But now the fun was gone. Andy wasn't some freaking soldier. He didn't want to be one of the special children anymore. Especially now that he was being forced to freak out little kids. " Hey…hey little buddy…it's okay. We're not going to hurt you.."

Connor continued to scream, wanting his mommy, wanting Dean to come and make the monsters go away. He watched the smoke like creatures circling the young woman in the room, his little fist jammed in his mouth as he screamed in terror, tears streaking his face as he curled up on a corner of the bed Skye had settled him on.

" Can't you shut him up? She'll be in here any minute…get on with it." Ava demanded.

" He's just a kid, Ava. Cut him some freaking slack. This is wrong…it's all wrong. I'm not doing this." Andy shook his head. God he wanted to be anywhere but here. He backed away, his hands flying up defensively as Ava took a step towards him, her face twisted up in an angry snarl.

" You'll do it, you little freak or I'll have my demons tear that kid apart and feed him to you, piece by piece. How do you think you'll like that, huh? Think there's enough bongs in the world to wipe that memory from your brain? Now do it!"

There were tears in Andy's eyes as he knelt down in front of Connor, turning his powers on the small boy, feeling like dirt. " Hey…hey it's okay. It's me…It's Sam. Remember me? Dean's brother?"

Connor's sobs slowed and he snuffled deeply as his big blue eyes looked at the man before him that now looked like Sam. He took a tentative step forward. " 'Ammy?"

" Yeah…it's me, dude. Everything's okay…"

Ava grabbed Andy suddenly and pulled him behind the door as it opened, Skye walking into the room. At the last minute, Skye spun around sensing something was wrong, her eyes widening in horror as a demon rushed at her….and everything went black.

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Dean glanced at his watch, wondering what was taking Skye so long? He frowned, tapping the glass of his watch as he saw the second hand had stopped. What the hell? An uneasiness settled in his gut and Dean got up from the sofa, heading for the bedroom. " Skye?"

Connor was crying again, this time for his mommy. Dean could smell the sulphur the moment he pushed the door open, his heart thundering in his chest. " Skye? Skye…answer me!"

Skye was nowhere to be seen as Dean rushed forward and knelt down in front of Connor. " Where's Mommy, Connor? What happened?"

" 'Ammy took Mommy."

" Sam?" Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. " Connor are you sure?"

The little boy nodded, fresh tears appearing as he began to sob again. " 'Ammy took Mommy. Mommy hurt. 'Ammy bad man…bad, bad man."

Dean scooped Connor up in his arms as he heard footsteps pounding towards the room. He turned to see John and Bobby in the doorway, his father stepping forward armed. " What the hell happened? Where's Skye?"

" I don't know. Connor says Sam took her, Dad. What the hell is happening?" Dean didn't want to believe it. Not Sam…not his brother. Why would he do this? Why would he hurt Skye? It didn't make any sense. He was rubbing Connor's back, desperately trying to calm him down as the little boy continued to cry.

Missouri came in into the room, walking up to the pair. " Oh honey…" She reached out and took hold of Connor's hand, trying to get a definite reading of what had happened. She saw Sam in the room, saw him talking to Connor, before Skye entered and was attacked. Dropping the hand with a gasp, Missouri shook her head. " I don't want to believe it…but I know what I saw. Your brother was here and he wasn't alone Dean. There was a young woman with him, she was the one controlling the demons…"

" Demons?" John growled, locking eyes with Dean and noting the way his son was holding Connor protectively. Sam was working with demons now? Had the Yellow Eyed Demon managed to sway Sam after all? John didn't want to believe it, but he knew what he'd been told before, how he'd been warned about Sam turning. That day in the hospital, seeing the look on Dean's face after he had told him the truth…would never leave John. How could it? You didn't ask your son to kill the brother he had raised all his life….

" What do we do now?" No-one had to tell Bobby that their hopes of resting up were over. He could see it in Dean's eyes, in John's posture, the way those damn stumps were twitching irritably on John's shoulder blades.

Dean was rubbing Connor's back, whispering softly to the little boy, making promises that he knew he couldn't afford to break. This was his fault, he had brought Skye and Connor into his world, into this life. He had to fix this. Had to make it right. The Demon wasn't going to take another mother, wasn't going to leave another little boy growing up with only vague memories of the light he had once had in his life. " We're going after Skye. I'm getting her back. This ends now." He looked at his father, knowing he was echoing the exact words his father had said when Meg went on her killing spree among those that John and the boys cared about.

" Dean…this is Sam we're talking about. Your brother." Bobby warned. Just what the hell had John set in motion that day in the hospital?

" You think I want it this way?" Dean growled, holding Connor a little tighter as his anger scared the little boy. He let his anger slide away a little, his world spiraling out of control. Feeling as though all reason had been lost. Nothing made sense anymore. Sam had become the enemy. Dean didn't want it that way, never wanted to be forced to face this moment…but it was here. " Sam made me promise…" Dean swallowed suddenly, fighting his emotions for a moment before the walls slammed into place, his eyes no longer full of pain…but hollowed out, as empty as his heart and soul felt.

" _No. He was right to say it! Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!" Sam argued, the alcohol making everything so clear to him. _

_Dean was in no mood for this tonight, or any night for that matter. His little brother wasn't evil, dammit. Whatever Dad had heard was wrong and there was no way Dean would ever be able to follow through on what he'd been ordered to do. " Yeah, well, I'm not dying, okay? And neither are you. Come on. Sam." He pushed his brother down onto the bed behind him, just wanting Sam to get some sleep and stop spouting all this crap. It was too much. Dean wasn't in the mood for it and the way Sam fought back, refusing to lie down wasn't helping matters, his hand knotted up in Dean's shirt, fighting every step of the way. _

"_No, please! Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise."_

" _Don't ask that of me."__ Dean couldn't make that promise. His father had already asked too much of him, how was he supposed to say no to Sam too? The one person in the world that Dean had never been able to refuse when he needed help? How could Sam do this him? _

"_Dean, please. You have to promise me."_

_Sam was pleading with him now and the emotions he could see in his brother's face were tearing Dean apart. If anything was ever going to happen, if ever Sam went darkside and was going to be hunted? Dean didn't want some stranger taking down his little brother. If it had to be anyone? Dean would make sure it was him, simply so he could still be cradling his brother when he put a bullet through his own skull. "I promise." _

At the time, it had simply seemed the best way to get Sam to drop the subject. To make him get some sleep and maybe forget all about the crap they'd been told about him going evil. But now as Dean held Connor and felt the fear and confusion locked within the little boy, he knew that it was time to honour that promise. " I have to find Sammy and finish this…"

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	12. Gods Of War

_A/N: Lyrics and Chapter title borrowed from Def Leppard...sorry for the wait, guys. Real Life reared it's ugly head as always. For anyone interested? I have a new vid based on this fic at my Youtube account. You can find the link in my profile..._

_This is getting a little bigger than first anticipated…but hey, we need to give these crazy kids time to deal with things. LOL The next chapter will deal with the boys meeting up at last…so stayed tuned, folks. Oh ..and yeah, we'll see Skye again soon if anyone's wondering. Thanks for sticking with me this far!! (HUGS)_

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"_We're fightin' for the gods of war but what the hell we fightin' for?" Def Leppard – Gods of War_

**Just outside of Oakley, Kansas…**

" Any chance of pulling over soon, mate? I need to get out of this bloody matchbox car before I get a cramp." Elise asked, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, trying to give some relieve to her back and legs.

A quick glance in her watch told her they'd been on the road for almost 5 hours now, passing through one dead town after another, seeing abandoned or smoking cars on the side of the highway. It was an eerie sight, like being the last survivors of a nuclear war. Occasionally there was a glimpse of a body and Elise would turn her head, feeling a flash of fear ripple through her until she caught Sam's eyes. There was a calmness there…as if he knew what he was supposed to be doing, how to handle this. It was scary and reassuring all at once.

" We need to keep going." Sam stated flatly, wishing there was some music in the car. Garth Brooks had worn out his welcome over an hour before and was now lying back on the highway behind them in a few hundred pieces.

" Hey, look, I get it. Places to go, people to see…whatever. But it'll still be there in a hour, Sam. All I'm asking is that we stop for a few minutes. Come on…maybe we'll even find a faster car? This one is so gutless I'm half expecting to find a hamster in a wheel under the bonnet." Elise raised an eyebrow at Sam, waiting to see if she got a laugh, a smile…something to show the guy sitting next to her was alive. " How are you feeling?"

" I'm fine. It doesn't hurt anymore." Sam answered honestly. But the dark circles under his eyes showed just how little sleep Sam had gotten lately, despite being unconscious. His body was exhausted from rapidly healing such a heavy wound and Sam was running on empty, pushing himself to get to Wyoming and just get this done. He spared a glance towards Elise and saw the concern in her eyes. She'd been good company, if Sam was honest with himself. Not talking too much, not pressing him for answers he didn't have. It was obvious that she was worried about her own family and Sam envied that. He hoped she still had family to go home to. That the brother she'd mentioned was still waiting for her back in Australia. It would be nice to think that after he had stopped the Yellow Eyed Demon, giving his life if that was what it took…that someone still had a chance at a happy ending, a chance to start over.

" I'll pull over in Oakley." A smile flickered over his lips for a moment, then was gone.

Elise returned a warmer, genuine smile. " Hey, you never know. We might even find a car with a cd player?"

" Yeah… if we're lucky." Sam agreed, finding a real smile appearing again.

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The Impala hugged the road like it was on rails, answering the smallest request of Dean without hesitation, as though they were one creature, melded together by purpose. The landscape flew by in a blur as Dean held the wheel, whiteknuckled and staring out into the distance.

His father was in the passenger seat, silently watching his son while Dean's attention was elsewhere. Connor was asleep in his car seat, exhausted from crying for Skye. A quick glance in the side mirror told John that Missouri and Bobby were keeping pace behind them.

Dean had the music at a low level, not wanting to disturb Connor, his mind still reeling from what he'd been told before. Sam had Skye….had kidnapped her. Why? It made no sense. Sam didn't know Dean was alive. What could he gain from taking Skye and leaving Connor behind? Who was this mystery girl with him that could apparently control demons? What the hell had made Sam change sides? Nothing made sense anymore to Dean. His brother had been killing demons, taking down as many as he could….that was the Sam he knew. The one he had watched grow up, had watched over all these years. Now he was supposed to believe that same brother had become the enemy?

Dean's head was pounding from fighting these thoughts, from trying to understand something that was so alien to him. An idea that he just couldn't accept. And yet he needed answers. He needed to confront Sam and see for himself what his brother had become, if he had taken Skye. He was done with losing people, done with dealing with the hurt and pain it caused. The world was a fucked up place and Dean didn't want that to be the first real lesson Connor learnt. That everyone you loved was taken from you.

Connor cried out in his sleep and shifted uneasily without waking.

" It's okay, Sammy…I'm here. It's okay…" Dean spoke softly, his eyes never leaving the road.

John kept watching Dean, his heart breaking as he saw that his son had no idea what he had said, whose name he had spoken. That protective instinct was so strong in Dean, always had been. Even as a little boy, John had seen it. Seen the way Dean guarded Sam like a lion, fierce and proud. Even before the Yellow Eyed Demon had torn his world asunder, Dean had been Sam's guardian angel, making sure his brother didn't want for anything, always two steps behind Mary, watching, guarding. He'd taken on the duty of big brother without ever questioning it. Not even when Sam drove him crazy in later years, when Sam broke his brother's heart by leaving for Stanford.

It just never occurred to Dean that he was anything more than Sam's guardian and John knew that was his fault. He had relied on Dean so much after Mary died. To care for Sam when he was drinking, to watch over Sam when he left the boys alone in some crappy, stinking motel room while he hunted evil. And now? Now he was watching that same protective instinct tear his son apart as he warred with the idea of having to kill his brother.

" You should have let me die."

" Come again?" John couldn't have heard that right.

Dean threw his father a dark look, his jaw twitching with deep, searing anger. " You heard me. You had no right to do what you did."

" We gonna do this again?" John questioned. " You already know my reasons for what I did, Dean. I'm getting tired of explaining myself to you."

" No offense, Dad, but your reasons are bullshit." Dean retorted. " You're a coward. You couldn't bring yourself to deal with Sam yourself, to pull that trigger on him, so you dumped it on me. Made it my responsibility. You've always told me that what's dead…stay's dead. So why was I an exception huh? Why'd you have to bring me back? You can sit there all you want, telling yourself that it's because I'm the one that Sam would listen to, the one who could save him. It's bullshit…you just couldn't do it yourself if it came down to killing Sammy."

" That's enough, Dean." John growled venomously.

" That's right, Dad. Order me. Tell me what to do. The good little soldier, always following orders, always willing to obey, right?" Dean glanced at his father, his green eyes bright with unshed tears of rage. " You never once thought about what it would do to me, having to deal with what you told me. What it would do to Sam! I watched it eat away at him, Dad. The doubt, the fear. He was so sure he was going to turn evil and it was all I could do to get him to hold on, to stay with me and fight against what he thought was coming. Sam thought it was his destiny, but you know what? I don't think so. I think he just ended up a casualty of this fucked up war the Yellow Eyed Demon had going with you. We've all just been pawns, caught in the crossfire, trying to stay alive…and for what? So I can kill my little brother? So I can lose Skye? So I can explain to Connor I know what it's like to lose a mother? To lose everyone?"

" Dean." The word was spoken more sharply than intended, but it had the effect John needed. Dean sat up a little straighter, his attention on his father. " You're right. I couldn't pull the trigger myself and it was wrong of me to put that on you. But I never thought it would come to that. I thought you would save him, Dean."

" Yeah, well, it looks like you were wrong, Dad…" Dean snapped bitterly, reaching out to turn up the music more.

John reached out and blocked Dean's hand. " Pull over. Let me drive for a while."

" No."

" That's an order, Dean." John saw the anger and defiance in his son's eyes as Dean looked at him. " Come on, dude. I might have screwed up, but I'm not the enemy. You need some rest."

A thousand reasons came to Dean for not obeying his father, but he ignored them, because he was tired. So very tired. Swinging the Impala to the shoulder of the road, John exchanged places with Dean while Bobby and Missouri watched from the car behind them. Then they were back on the road, John slipping some Zepplin into the tapedeck and tapping along to the beat as Dean laid his head against the window and closed his eyes, sleep claiming him almost instantly as the Impala lulled him into darkness, thoughts of Sam on his mind…..

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" _**But I'm a rebeller…and I ain't gonna fight no more. No way…" **_

_Dean awoke with a start to the beat of Def Leppard, blinking furiously in confusion at first as he found himself in the backseat of a strange car. It was station wagon, one of the crappy fake wood panel jobs he hated. Great, since when had he become part of the freaking Griswold family? What was next? Wallyworld? Dean couldn't help but snigger then, still crawling back into the world of the living when he heard a voice that all at once was both a source of comfort and pain._

" _You're determined to haunt me, aren't you?" Sam shifted in his seat, looking over the back to where Dean was. _

" _Oh come on, Sammy, would you really expect anything else? How else would I keep your sorry ass out of trouble?" Dean gave a sad smile. Sam still had no idea this was real…that Dean was really talking to him. Somewhere out there, Sam was asleep right now, putting his life in the hands of whoever was driving. Dean looked over at the young woman at the wheel. She looked harmless enough…not the sort to be able to control demons. But then, Meg had looked harmless too at first and look what had happened there? Sam's taste in women was going from bad to worse. Okay, that comment wasn't fair. Dean would never put Jessica in that category. She'd been a good choice for his brother, had been set to marry him and all before the Yellow Eyed Demon killed her. Sarah too had been a good match for his brother. But after that?? Meg, Madison…it all went downhill._

" _So who's the girl? You replacing me?" Dean asked, lifting an eyebrow. _

" _Elise. You'd like her, Dean. And no, she's not replacing you. We're just traveling together. " Sam explained, before he got that damn hurt, puppy dog look on his face. " Why would I be trying to replace you? Although…if anyone could? A girl would be the right choice." A teasing smile played on his lips._

" _Bitch."_

" _Jerrrrk." The word rolled off Sam's tongue so easily and Dean felt like he'd been punched in the solar plexus. It was suddenly hard to breathe, hard to be here and see his brother like this. The familiar banter now like jagged barbs in his heart. _

" _So are you going to keep coming back? Following me around?" Sam asked, a hopeful edge to his voice that he didn't try to disguise. _

" _Maybe? I don't know, dude. These are your dreams…" Dean lied, adding that to the long list of lies he'd been forced to tell his brother in the past. He looked around at the landscape, trying to recognize something. "Where the hell are we, anyway?"_

" _Just outside of Oakley."_

" _Oakley, Kansas?" Dean felt a surge run through him. He was closer to Sam than he thought, his instincts of what direction to take, apparently driving him head long towards his brother without him even knowing it. Maybe it was part of the bond they shared? Dean wasn't sure._

" _No, Oakley, Alaska." Sam deadpanned, rolling his eyes. " Why do you care anyway? You're dead." _

" _Yeah…I guess it doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Dean answered softly, playing along. " So you headed anywhere special? You know, the Grand Canyon? California? Disneyland?"_

" _Not exactly. Wyoming." _

" _Wyoming? What the hell's in Wyoming?"_

" _The Demon." Sam shrugged. " He's been calling me. Calling all the demon children, Dean."_

_Dean could feel his body becoming lighter again, a voice calling to him from somewhere else. Oh no…hell, no. He was waking up again. Dammit, not now! " Sam. Stay with me, dude…please. Sammy!"_

" _See you soon, Dean…" Sam smiled softly, watching his brother fading again._

In two separate cars, both on the same road, miles apart, Sam and Dean both awoke with a start and tears in their eyes.

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" Dean! You with me?" John's face was dark with concern as he watched his son rub at his face, scrubbing away the tears and taking a shaky breath before he nodded.

" Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Where are we?" Dean looked around, trying to assess his surroundings, how close to Sam he was. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that he didn't have the full picture. Why was Sam pleased to see him? Sad to see him go? Where was Skye? Dammit…it was like playing Twenty Questions with a person who answered in a foreign language.

" We've about forty miles past Topeka. Why?"

" Punch it, will you? Sam's just outside Oakley. We need to catch him, Dad."

" I know, dude." John nodded, pushing his foot down more and feeling the Impala respond eagerly. Dean had done a damn fine job of rebuilding her after that crash. John had never mentioned to his son how proud he was of him for taking care of the car like that, knowing that it was an emotional thing for the boy, a way to fix a part of his family. To regain control after the Demon had taken John's life. But he was damn proud of what Dean had done…even if it was used as a shield against his own pain. " Do you want some more sleep? You look like hell, Dean."

" I'm fine, Dad. Quit worrying about me." Dean snapped, throwing his father an annoyed sideways glance. The dream was still echoing in his mind, reminding Dean that somehow, he had actually been inside that car with Sam. He shifted slightly, looking over into the back and seeing Connor still sound asleep. Dean envied the little boy for a moment, wondering if he was ever going to have a peaceful night's sleep ever again, or whether he would be haunted by his brother's face? " Dad?"

John took his eyes from the road to look at Dean, hearing a note in his voice that reminded the hunter of when his son was a little boy, the rare moments he would look to his father for reassurance instead of stoically soldiering on, following orders without question. An ache built up in John's chest as he saw the doubt and desperation staring back at him from those green eyes he knew so well. The rest of Dean's face was devoid of expression or emotion as he tried to swallow down his feelings, but the eyes could never hide what that boy was truly feeling.

" Yeah, Dean?" John asked quietly.

" Has Missouri ever been wrong? Has she ever lied to you?"

" No. Never." John knew that wasn't what Dean wanted to hear. But it was the truth.

" You're sure?" There was complete misery lying under those words and Dean watched his father, his eyes searching, pleading for something to give him hope. The Sam he'd seen in that dream was still his Sam, still felt like his Sam. But Sam's words still played in Dean's mind. _"He's been calling me. Calling all the demon children, Dean." _

" Yeah, I'm sure. What's this about, Dean? Sam? What happened in that dream? What did you see? What did say to you?"

" Nothing." Dean turned away from his father, looking out the window at the landscape rolling past.

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" Do you want to talk about it?"

Sam used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the tears from his eyes before he glanced in Elise's direction, seeing the concerned look on her face. " Talk about what?"

" The dream you just had? You were talking in your sleep, mate. Who's Dean?" Elise inquired, curious to fill in the blanks on what had been a one way conversation from her end. Sam had seemed so peaceful as he slept, until towards the end when he started to speak that name. Dean…who was that? A friend? A lover? Family? He seemed important, whoever he was.

" Look, no offense, but dreams are a private thing, you know?" Sam scowled, folding his arms and almost drawing in on himself, closing off both physically and emotionally.

" Fine…Jesus," Elise sighed, sensing she'd put her foot in it somehow. " No need to bite my head off, Sam. I was just wondering who the bloody hell he was? Besides, what did you want me to do? Get out and walk? It's not like I read your mind…you said his name out loud."

Sam let out a slow sigh of resignation and was about to speak, when a loud bang startled them both and Elise found herself wrestling furiously with the steering wheel. " Shit! I think we've blown a tyre!"

Fighting the car to the side of the road without throwing them around too much, Elise stopped the car and let out a shaky laugh as she looked over at Sam. " Well that was fun."

" I'll get the spare." Sam offered, climbing out of the car and heading around to the back of it. He opened the back door and lifted up the carpet that lined the back compartment, rolling his eyes as he saw the spare laying in the tyre well. The entire side of it was blown out. " Great…we don't have a spare."

" What?" Elise twisted around and looked at him over the seat. " You're kidding, right? What the bloody hell are we supposed to do without a spare?"

Sam turned and looked along the road, making note of where they were. " I guess we walk? It's not that far to the next town. It'll be dark by the time we reach it. We'll find somewhere to stay, then look for another car in the morning." He grabbed his duffel out of the back seat and slung it over his shoulder. Elise grudgingly slid her backpack on again, a pout already forming on her lips. " Just when we found a decent cd player as well."

Her comment drew a slight smile from Sam as the pair began the long walk towards the next town. Elise moved in a little closer to Sam, feeling exposed now they were out in the open like that and she was relieved when Sam didn't make any comment about it or move away. If anything, he shifted around her to put himself between Elise and the road, acting as a barrier to any traffic they would encounter…not that Sam expected any. He had a feeling the demons had hit hard and fast with most of these towns, taking out the populations as they tried to flee.

They'd walked for around fifteen minutes in silence, before Sam spoke up at last. " He's my brother."

" Who?"

" Dean." Sam smiled as he said the name, but it was a sad, haunted smile. " I was dreaming about my brother."

" So where is he? This brother of yours? You meeting him in Wyoming?"

" I wish. Dean was killed when all this started." His heart twisted painfully at the memory of his brother's lifeless body in his arms. The dreams were the only thing keeping Sam sane, but was starting to think that wasn't always going to be the case. The more he saw Dean, the more he missed his brother. It was like being given a gasp of air when you were suffocating…it only prolonged the pain. " He'd have liked you."

" Oh? Am I his type?" Elise gave Sam a teasing smile, wanting to lift his mood, get him away from painful memories and hopefully onto some more happier ones.

" You're female…that's about the only type Dean ever needed." Sam told her, shaking his head as he chuckled. The laughter died away quickly as Sam found himself biting his bottom lip to hold back tears that wanted to spill the way Dean's blood had been spilt. " I miss him. Man, I miss him so much. He was always there for me. Always…even when I hurt him, even when I pushed him away, he was there for me. And now he's haunting my dreams…."

Elise hesitantly reached out and took Sam's hand, looking up at him as his long fingers closed around hers and didn't let go, the pair of them walking in synch with each other. " Brothers, huh? They never did know when to bugger off and leave you alone."

Sam let out a choked laugh and nodded, a tear slipping past his defences to slid down his cheek before he swiped it away with his free hand. " Yeah…"

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	13. See Who I Am

_A/N: __Firstly, I seriously need to thank Tara for her help with his fic. She's just been awesome and more supportive than I could ever ask for. Thanks mate! HUGS_

_Secondly? This is a big chapter. It just didn't want to stop once it got started, so yeah, you might want to be set for that before you start reading. This is the big fight, guys, the climax of the story. I have one chapter set for after this, to set the scene for the next story and let us know how Skye is coping. _

_Thirdly? I'm sorry it took so long to post this...but it's been one stupid real life hassle after another lately and my muse just quit on me. Thankfully it's back!_

_But for now? Enjoy! Leave me some love if you liked it...try not to flame me too much if you didn't. LOL_

_Lyrics and Chapter title belong to Within Temptation. _

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_See who I am, _

_break through the surface. _

_Reach for my hand, _

_Let's show them that we can _

_free our minds and find a way. _

_The world is in our hands, _

_this is not the end – __**Within Temptation - See Who I Am**_

**Medicine Bow, South Wyoming…**

The first thing Skye saw when she opened her eyes, was dirt. It took her brain a few seconds to kick into gear and make sense of what she was seeing, her first initial panicked thought, was that she was buried alive. But no…she was just face down on a dirt floor. Lifting her head, Skye rolled over onto her back, taking in her surroundings. It was some kind of cellar. The ceiling was wooden and a set of stairs led up to a door that she knew was probably locked. After all, she'd seen enough of those midday movies of the week to know what happened when you were kidnapped. The smell of sulphur was still rich in the air, Skye's memories before everything going black, being a man and woman surrounded by smoke-like demons…

She couldn't help but recoil away in surprise and fear as she realised someone was standing only a few feet away from her. It was a young woman with reddish brown hair, watching her with a cold smile on her face, her arms folded across her chest.

" It's about time, I thought you were never waking up…and then the big guy would have been majorly pissed."

" Where's Connor? Where's my son? What the hell have you done with him?" Skye demanded.

" Little guy, right? About yah high?" Ava held her hand several feet above the floor. "Blonde hair?" She smiled sweetly. " I killed him."

" You're lying."

" No…honestly, I killed him. Snapped that little chicken neck of his just like that…" Ava snapped her fingers, then shrugged casually. " You oughta be thanking me. I mean, he was gonna die sooner or later, right? I saved him from suffering. It was nice and quick."

Skye shook her head, his hands clenching into fists in the dirt beside her as she stayed kneeling. " You're lying!"

" You'd like to think that, huh?" Ava moved closer, crouching down and smiling, almost sympathetically. " It was sweet though. The way Dean wrapped his little body? He took such care with it, talking about how he'd be warm and safe. I almost shed a tear myself when he lit the funeral pyre. Never seen a grown man cry until then…guess he must have really liked the little guy, huh?"

" No….." Skye's vision blurred as tears spilt down her cheeks. God, no…it had to be a lie. It had to be. Connor couldn't be gone….Her whole reason for living, just snuffed out without any thought at all. Something died inside of Skye at that moment and as she slowly raised her head to look the woman in the eye, she made note of every inch of her face. Because she was going to kill that bitch. " What the hell do you want from me?"

" I don't want anything. It's the big guy that's calling the shots now. You make yourself comfortable…he'll be in to see you soon enough." Ava winked at Skye, stood back up and headed for the stairs. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw that Skye was slowly curling in on herself, crying. A satisfied smile was firmly in place as Ava left the cellar. This beat the hell out of being a secretary in Preoria.

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" Whoa…whoa, Dad, pull over!" Dean sat up his seat sharply. He'd been resting in the passenger seat for the past few hours, letting his mind wander, thinking about the dream. About Sam. About Skye. It still didn't make sense at all to him.

The station wagon had almost been missed, parked just off the side of the road. But the instant Dean saw it, his dream jumped out to him in vivid sensurround. The Impala pulled over just in front of the abandoned wagon, Dean leaping out of the muscle car before it had even stopped moving. He ran back to the wagon and looked it over, sensing Sam, feeling his brother's echo within the vehicle and wanting to hold onto it.

"Dean? What is it?" John was out of the Impala now, walking over with concern etched into his face.

" Sam was in this car. I saw him in my dream." Dean crouched down, taking in the blown tyre and rubbing his chin with one hand. He needed a shave, needed something to eat…needed to find his brother and Skye and just make all this shit _stop._

" Everything okay?" Bobby asked, climbing out of Missouri's car once it was parked behind the wagon.

" Yeah, everything's fine, Bobby." John assured him.

" Good. I need to stretch my damn legs anyway. The way Missouri was driving? I thought I was gonna have to get out and push so we could keep up with you two."

" Bobby Singer, if you've got a problem with the way I drive? You can just haul your big ole ass over to that Impala and ride in the damn back!" Missouri snapped. She fixed the man with a stern look, folding her arms as she leaned back against the hood of her sedan. " And don't you be laughing about that, John Winchester…"

John tried to feign innocence, before he surrendered himself to a quiet chuckle at Bobby's expense. His head whipped around towards the car a moment later, any laughter dying out as Connor's plaintive cries filled the air. Dean was already running for the Impala, reaching the back door before anyone else had taken a step. Connor turned towards the door as soon as it opened, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Want Mommy!"

" Hey…hey...hey, it's okay, Connor. It's okay, little guy. We're gonna find her. We're gonna find your mom, buddy." Dean promised, his voice low and soothing as he unbuckled the little boy from his seat and picked him up. Connor burrowed in, his little hands clutching his shirt over Dean's shoulders, his tears soaking into Dean's neck. Rubbing his back, Dean tried to comfort him, calling on everything he had ever done since he was a little boy left to care for his brother when his father was too drunk to hear Sam's cries in the first few months after their mother's death.

" You know I'm betting that little boy needs to make a nature call." Missouri spoke up. " I'm guessing he's not in diapers no more?"

Dean coaxed Connor into unwrapping himself from around his neck and gently put the little boy down, crouching in front of him. " Connor…you need to uh….take a whiz?" He could see the confusion in Connor's eyes and rubbed the back of his neck selfconsciously, unsure how he was supposed to approach this? He had no idea how long Skye had been potty training Connor. What words she used…how'd she'd done it? " Uhhh…Potty? Do you need to go potty?"

Connor nodded solemnly and wriggled slightly, suddenly aware of just how badly he needed to go. Dean smiled at him and took Connor's hand. There was nothing but cornfields on either side of the road. Dean jerked a thumb towards the field beside him. " I'm just gonna show Connor the finer art of peeing while standing up." He smirked at Missouri and glanced towards the cornfield across the other side of the road. " That's the ladies room, if you need it."

Bobby and John both shared a grin that earned them a sharp look from Missouri before she rolled her eyes and walked off across the road " Honestly, that child has more maturity than any of you boys."

Dean had made sure he was deep enough into the cornfield for privacy, before he stopped and tried to demonstrate to Connor was he was supposed to be doing. " See, Connor? Just like this, little buddy."

" No potty?" Connor tilted his head to one side and looked up at Dean, questioningly.

" Are you kidding? This whole field is your potty, pal. And the best thing about it? No one can complained you missed." Dean beamed down at the little boy, his smile slowly fading away as he saw that the joke was lost on Connor. Potty training had been so much easier with Sam. Dad had gone out and bought a whole heap of those stupid little paper bullseyes you could drop in the toilet and aim for. It had been like shooting practice and Dean had found it easy to show Sammy how to do it.

But this? Dean had never had to worry about trying to show a toddler how to take a piss in a cornfield. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he was doing it all wrong? Maybe Missouri should have been the one to take him? That's how it usually worked right? Dean had often seen women taking their sons into the ladies room at the mall….

The sound of water hitting the ground broke Dean out of his thoughts and he looked at Connor to see that he had dropped his pants and was copying Dean. " Hey! That's it, champ! You got it!"

Connor looked up at Dean, a huge smile appearing on his face. He remained still afterwards as Dean made sure his pants were pulled up properly, then held up his hand. " Pala, now? Find Mommy?"

" You got it, Connor…come on." Before they took a step, Connor suddenly rushed forward and threw his arms around Dean's leg. He crouched down, looking the little boy in the eye. " You okay?"

Connor threw his arms around Dean's neck, squeezing tightly. Then he pulled back, looked at Dean for a moment and pressed a quick, wet, kiss on his cheek, before hugging him again. " Dee, no go away? Not like 'Ammy and Mommy?"

Dean felt his heart clench, thumping brokenly in his chest as he thought about his own fears as a little boy, not much older than Connor. The sense of loss and bewilderment he'd felt that had made him so desperate to keep his father and brother close. Connor didn't even have that. So Dean held him tightly and made him a promise that not even Hell itself would break. " Naw, Connor. I'm not going anywhere." He stood up, still hugging Connor in his arms and walked back out to the Impala.

Bobby, John and Missouri were all standing, waiting. He could see from the way Bobby was standing between his father and Missouri, that the hunter still didn't completely trust his father. Dean didn't know if that would change in time? Right now? He didn't care. " Let's shag ass. Sam's on foot, so we should catch him in the next town."

"Alright then…let's do it." John nodded, throwing Dean the keys to the Impala. He knew his son well enough, to know that Dean would want to drive again.

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**Colby, Kansas…..**

" You know something, Toto? I wish we weren't in Kansas anymore. I'm starting to think the whole bloody state is nothing but bodies and abandoned towns.." Elise shivered, pulling her denim jacket around her more.

" Did you just call me a small fluffy dog??" Sam quirked an eyebrow at Elise, a smile twitching up the corner of his mouth. His feet were killing him and with the night now falling, it was getting cold and he'd had to jam his hands into his jacket pockets to get feeling back into his fingers. It had been a long walk from the car, but now as they entered Colby, Sam was beginning to relax more, knowing they could rest for the night. He could still feel the incessant pull of the Yellow Eyed Demon through every cell in his body, calling all the children to him, all the demons he needed….while the lower ones, the minions, were given free reign to create havoc with the human population. Possessing, killing, driving the tide of panicked people before them like something out of that War Of The Worlds cassette Dean had played for Sam one night in a motel room, in Little Rock, Arkansas, when he was nine. Sam had loved the music, the sound of Richard Burton's voice as the reporter, had him mesmorised…especially when Dean started to tell Sam all about how Orson Welles had created a panic by reading it out over the radio. It had fascinated Sam for months, to the point that Dean had bought him a copy of the original story for Christmas.

" Maybe it's the hair?" Elise teased gently. She'd let Sam talk during their walk, letting him open up a little about his brother, sharing memories of her own family with him. It seemed to help Sam, take some huge weight off his shoulder….as if he was afraid of forgetting his brother, the life he'd lived before everything went to hell. Elise wasn't stupid, she could see that Sam was fighting against something, that there was a darkness in there that scared her. Whatever it was, she'd seen similar things in the National Guard, in the looters that slaughtered without thought.

But with Sam…it was different. He wasn't giving into it and the more she asked him to talk about Dean, the more he seemed to come out of himself, seemed to smile and lighten up. Elise wondered if this Dean had ever known how much his little brother loved him?

" So where are we going?" Elise asked, looking around at the town before them. It had obviously been a cosy little farming community once. Now it was burnt, smouldering. Cars had been left in the main street where they had crashed, shop fronts had been smashed. But it was eerie silence that Elise found unnerving.

" We need somewhere to stay the night. I don't think it's a good idea for us to be traveling at night without a car." Sam headed deeper into the town, pausing outside the local supermarket." You feeling hungry? There might be something left we could use?"

" Sure…I'm game if you are, mate."

They emerged twenty minutes later with some tins of rice cream, baked beans and one lonely, battered tin of Spam. Everything else had either been smashed or looted already.

" Let's head over to the church." Sam nodded towards the white spire that could been seen in the distance. " It might be the best sort of safe haven we could find?" Not that he'd found that in Lawrence. The smell of all those decaying bodies, locked together inside that church would never leave Sam. The desperate way they had all been huddled into each other in their final moments.

He hoped this time would different, but as they approached the small, white washed church, Sam's heart sank. There was a body nailed to the front doors of the church, his throat cut and a sign pinned the front of his clothes saying _"God isn't listening anymore…"_

" Is…is that a priest?" Elise's voice was almost a whisper, the blood rushing from her face as she looked at the man. Sam gently turned her away from the sight, sliding an arm around her shoulders as she buried her face in his chest. " That's some pretty twisted shit, Sam. I mean…he's a priest."

" Yeah. It makes for an effective message." Sam looked down at the congealed pool of blood at the priest's feet and saw a white line just underneath the doors. " Stay here, okay? I won't be long." He moved up to the doors and gently pried the man down, dragging the body out of sight and sending a silent prayer up for him in the process. Although Sam was pretty sure any prayers from him were unlikely to be heard anyway after what he had done.

Elise paced quietly in front of the church, jumping at the slightest noise, her heart in her throat. The town was too quiet, there was no noise she could recognize. A dog barking…a car…nothing. It was just deathly quiet and that was exactly what had her so jumpy. The fact that all around her, she could smell death. It was obscene, having the front of church smell so much like death and when Sam finally appeared from the side of the building, Elise was never more grateful to see another person.

" Come on…let's get inside before something sees us." Sam held out a hand to Elise and tried to give her a reassuring smile when she took it. Together, they pushed open the front doors of the church to find the building was empty. There were no bodies to be seen, no scent of death hanging over them now. Sam pointed down to the white line at the church door. " Salt…demons can't cross it. We'll be safe in here as long as we don't break the lines."

" But the priest…how did he…?"

" I'm guessing they lured him outside." Sam said quietly, letting go of Elise's hand and making a quick patrol of the church, checking the lines the priest had made, reassured that none of them were broken. The church was safe.

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The Impala pulled up on the outskirts of town, parking behind a gas station. John looked over at his son as Dean cut the engine. " Alright…this is how we play it--"

" Sorry, Dad, but you're not giving the orders here." Dean cut in, shaking his head. " I'm going in alone to find Sam."

" Dean, you don't even know if he's here. They could have kept moving. I'm not letting you walk into a strange town alone. Anything could be waiting out there."

" Which is exactly why I need you to stay here with Connor, Dad. Sam's not going to be expecting to see you. Hell, he thinks I'm dead too…but the last time he saw you? You had the whole winged avenger look going for you." Dean nodded towards his father's shoulder blades. " How're they doing, anyway?"

John suddenly rolled his shoulders and rubbed his back against the seat, his face crumpling in frustration. " They're damned itchy, that's how their doing! And if you think for one damned minute, that I'm going to sit in this car and babysit…."

" Alright, alright…" Dean pushed his door open and climbed out. He went to the back of the Impala and took Connor from the carseat as Bobby and Missouri approached them. Their own car was parked back out of sight as well. " Missouri, I need you to watch Connor for me. Please?"

" Sure, honey." Missouri stepped forward, her arms outstretched. Connor shook his head and burrowed into Dean, his breath hot against Dean's neck. " No! 'tay Dee! Dee, no go! No go away!"

" Hey…hey, Connor, hey…" Dean knelt down and pried the little boy off him so he could look him in the eye. " I need to go find your Mommy and Sam. Okay? Now I need you to be a brave little guy for me. I need you to stay here with Missouri and Bobby. They need you to keep them safe from the monsters."

Connor shook his head, his eyes brimming with hot tears that spilt from his big blue eyes as his lip quivered. " Monsters get me."

Dean reached up and lifted his amulet off his neck, rubbing the leather cord between his fingers before he looped it over Connor's head. " This? This was given to me by Sam a long, long time ago. It keeps the monsters away. It'll keep you safe, okay?"

" Dee need it. Keep Dee 'afe."

" But if I know you're safe? Then I'm safe. So I need you to look after that for me, til I get back. Can you do that for me?" Dean placed a hand on Connor's small shoulder and gave it a squeeze the way his father had always done for him as a child. He was rewarded by Connor nodding slowly, then rushing forward and throwing his arms around Dean's neck. Returning the hug, Dean reluctantly pulled away and let Missouri gather Connor up in her arms.

Bobby gave Dean a nod and handed him a nickel plated .45. " Here…you watch your back. Make sure your Dad pulls his weight out there."

" You looking to get a smack in the mouth, Bobby?" John growled from a few feet away. " You watch your own back, you worn out old fart."

" I see growing those wings didn't do a damn thing for your disposition, John." Bobby smirked. " I've got things covered here. Get going."

John and Dean set off into town, with Dean casting one last look over his shoulder to give Connor what he hoped was a reassuring grin before he left. He knew that Connor would be safe with Bobby and Missouri, but Dean hated the idea of leaving him with anyone, preferring to trust his own skills when it came to looking after the people he cared for.

Nothing moved as they made their way through the town and it was starting to get on Dean's nerves. What the hell was able to empty a town like this? Sure, Bobby had told them about the National Guard he had been forced the flee….but this? This was more than Dean had ever expected.

" Welcome to Silent Hill…." Dean muttered, looking around at the burnt out buildings.

" Where?"

" Nothing." Dean shook his head, chuckling. " Guess you missed that movie, huh, Dad?"

It was John's turn to chuckle darkly then. " Yeah. Guess I must have. They didn't exactly have pay per view in Hell."

Dean stopped, frustration robbing the smile from his face as he threw up his hands. " Man, we don't even have the first idea of where to look for Sam. What are we supposed to do? Go door to door? Stand on a street corner and damn well shout his name?"

" Well you could try that, sugar….or you could ask me nicely?"

Dean and John spun, their guns already in their hands before they had completed turning. The dark haired woman who had slipped from the shadows continued to smile as she sashayed towards them, her movement deliberate overstated to show her hips twitching provocatively. She pouted her lips, looking as though she would devour them both if they dropped their guard….which wasn't likely to happen anytime soon. " John….I've missed you."

" Can't say it's mutual, Sarina."

" You know her?" Dean glanced at his father.

" Yeah, I know her. " John confirmed, keeping his gun trained on the woman, a cool, bemused smile on his face. " Nice body you picked…although you looked better with the horns."

" We all have to make sacrifices when we come up here, John. I would have thought it was the forked tongue you missed? You always told me you were curious about what a woman could do with one of them." Sarina purred, her voice as smooth as hot chocolate. She turned her attentions to Dean. " Is this your boy? Dean, isn't it? The one you left to look after little Sammy…"

With a sharp click, Dean had the hammer back on his .45, pressing it to Sarina's forehead. " You don't get to say his name, bitch."

" Ooooh….he really is a peach, isn't he, John? So eager to protect his baby brother. Ask me nicely and maybe I can tell you where to find him?" Sarina laughed softly, her eyes shifting to jet black as she looked at him. " Oh the things I could do with you, Dean Winchester. Things your Daddy could tell you all about…" Her hand pressed to his chest, sliding down gently towards his groin, stroking…caressing. " Things he used to beg for.."

Dean's gaze whipped towards his father, his eyes bright with the sting of betrayal. His father with a demon? It was all the distraction that was needed as the hand that had been so gentle before, suddenly became vicious, grabbing at his groin with a vicelike grip that instantly brought tears to his eyes as Sarina's free hand grabbed Dean by the throat and squeezed, lifting him off the ground. His airway was crushed, spots dancing before his eyes as a shot rang out and Dean was suddenly released, crumpling to the ground beside the now dead body of the brunette Sarina had taken over. The demon itself, billowed around Dean for a moment trying to find a way inside him before a word from John had it fleeing back into the ground.

Reaching down, John grabbed Dean under the arms and pulled his son to his feet, keeping his hand on him until he was satisfied Dean was steady on his feet. " You alright?"

" Yeah…super.." Dean croaked out, rubbing at his throat, and taking a moment for the pain in his groin to subside a little before he tried to straighten up completely, his eyes still watering. " Bitch. What the hell did you say to her anyway? What was that word? "

" Her true name. It's a source of power and she knew I could use it against her. To bind her."

Dean looked around for his gun and picked it up before meeting his father's eyes. " Let's find Sammy." He stalked away, his shoulders locked angrily.

" Dean…" John called after his son. When there was no reply, John stormed after him and spun Dean around, coming face to face with the anger in Dean's eyes. " Demon's lie, Dean. You know that."

" Yeah." The tone of his voice said otherwise.

" Do we need to talk about this? Dean, I would never…._never _betray your mother's memory like that. Ever. Do you hear me? Sarina was baiting you, son. That's all. It's how they work." John knew that Dean's faith had been shaken when he died, when he was left with the job of having to kill Sam if he could shake him. But until now, John hadn't realised just how badly Dean was shaken, how many doubts about his father had taken root in the boys mind until that point.

" But you knew her?"

" Yeah." John admitted. " I knew her. That bitch was in charge of flaying me in the first few months after I went to Hell. It was her job to break me. She didn't. That's all you need to know."

" Yes sir." Dean nodded softly, his gaze dropping to the ground. It lifted again as he felt his father's hand grab his chin and force him to look up. " Dean?"

Dean stared into his father's eyes, searching for the truth and seeing it reflected back at him. A glance down at his father's hand, saw the ring still firmly in place where it had always been since the day his parents had married. A weight of doubt lifted from his shoulders as Dean spoke again. " Yes sir…you loved Mom."

" Still do, son. Now let's go find your brother…" John clapped Dean on the shoulder and let him lead the way.

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Forty five minutes later, John was beginning to think he'd been right in the first place, that Sam had just past through the town. There was no sign of life anywhere, just bodies and the smell of decay, death. They were wasting time, when they should be burning up the highway, trying to catch his youngest before they lost him forever. It was fear that had consumed John for so long, since that night he'd lost Mary…since he had learnt the truth of what the Yellow Eyed Demon wanted from him. He'd fought all his life to keep his boys safe and now it was all beginning to unravel, Sam slipping away from them more and more with each passing hour. " Dean. He's not here, dude."

" Wait." Dean held up a hand, closing his eyes as they reached the corner of the street. He wasn't some sort of freaky psychic wonder like Sam, but he'd always felt some sort of connection to his brother. He'd always known when Sam was sick, when his brother was in trouble. It was just one of those innate things that had formed over the years as they grew up. Married couples could finish each other's sentences….they could also get divorced. Dean had never had that option with his brother and right now, as he tried to get a sense of whether his brother was anywhere nearby, he would have happily put up with all those annoying habits of Sam's….just to see him.

_Come on, Sammy…come on. Please…_

There. Dean's eyes flew open as he felt the echo of his brother's presence and looked up towards the church that lay ahead of them. A small smile appeared on Dean's face as he started forward instantly, moving with the low, quick pace of the big cat. Covering the ground with ease and very little expenditure of energy. Dean could hear his father's light foot falls behind him, the pair moving up to the church doors like assassins, flanking each other to provide cover.

Dean paused by the door, holding up a hand to signal stop, before he pointed to the salt line covering the door.

" Break the salt line." John ordered in a soft, firm whisper.

" No. That line's there for a reason, Dad. It's keeping Sam safe. Just wait here. Make sure nothing else gets in."

" Dammit. Dean…you can't go in alone." John spoke in a soft, firm whisper. " I can't help you in there."

" It's Sammy, Dad." Dean informed him, as if that was all the explanation needed. He gave his father's shoulder a squeeze. " Watch yourself out here."

" Dean!" John hissed as Dean opened the church door and slipped inside, leaving John outside helpless. He looked out over the church grounds, before deciding to check if there was another way inside, something that might have been missed….

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Dean kept his gun in his hand, as he moved down the row of pews, his eyes sweeping the church for his brother. There was movement to his right and Dean swept his gun automatically towards it. A girl was coming out of side door, probably one of small rooms the priest would have used to prepare for his Sunday sermons. It was the girl Dean had seen driving the station wagon in his dream and he kept his aim steady, remembering what Missouri had said about her supposedly being able to control demons. " Don't move."

Elise jumped in fright, the can of rice cream she'd been carrying tumbling from her hands as she saw the gun pointed at her. The blood drained from her face, her eyes becoming the size of saucers. " Jesus! Don't shoot!!"

" Where's Sam?"

" Right here…" Sam stepped out from behind a pillar, his gun trained on Dean.

" Sammy…it's good to see you, man." Dean breathed, smiling as his deepest emotions instantly overwrote the thoughts of his brother being evil. He didn't look evil, he didn't look any different. He just looked like Sam and Dean's finger relaxed on the trigger.

Sam eyed the man standing before him with a critical eye. His brother was dead. Sam had held him as he died, felt the life leave his body, the last breath shudder from his lips. How the hell was Dean standing here before him? But then, that was exactly the problem, wasn't it? Hell. The Yellow Eyed Demon. Sam had seen what they had done to his father, what he had they have taken Dean's body? Was it just another of those shells Sam had seen so often? A demon buried deep inside his brother's body?

The thought of that was so horrifying, so disrespectful to Sam. His brother had fought all his live against the evil around them, fighting to keep him safe, to keep his family together…for what? So he could be some walking meat suit to torment Sam?

" Sam…it's me. Put the gun down."

Something was off. Bugging Sam. There was something about Dean that was just not right….and as his eyes came to rest on Dean's chest, Sam knew exactly what it was. There was no amulet. It had been a Christmas present from Sam to his brother, when they were kids. A present that had been meant for Dad, but ended up being more deserved by Dean. Sam had asked Bobby for a special gift, something that would represent what his father was. Bobby had found him the amulet. It was a symbol from an ancient civilization. A symbol that was presented to a warrior to represent to his tribe and the world, that he was a guardian, a protector. They had sworn to watch over the tribe with their lives. It was supposed to be Dad's gift, something showing him how much Sam appreciated what he did and that…with his eight year old thinking, would keep his father safe from the evil in the world.

But then Dad didn't come home for Christmas and Dean had tried so hard to make it special for them anyway…Sam knew who deserved such a symbol. Dean had never taken it off willingly since that day….and now to see it missing from his brother's chest, merely confirmed what Sam suspected. " You're not my brother…"

Dean frowned, following his brother's line of sight and realizing what Sam had noticed. His eyes widened as Dean's head snapped back up." Sam! Wait-…"

A shot rang out, echoing in the church loudly, making Elise scream behind Sam. Dean felt a white hot pain in his chest, a sensation as though he was being squeezed by a giant hand. He looked down, seeing a red blossom growing on his chest. The bullet had punched through a lung, collapsing it and stealing Dean's breath as he dropped to his knees, gasping, bright red, frothy blood spilling over his lips. He stared in shock at his brother, toppling to one side as everything began to fade out.

Blood…there was so much blood. How the hell could there be blood if Dean was…. " Shit!" Sam burst forward, skidding to his knees beside his brother and pulling him into his arms. The move was far too close to that night in the barn and Sam's heart was hammering. He'd shot his brother…he'd shot his fucking brother! " Dean! Come on man…come on. Answer me…"

Like a cinder block, Dean's right fist slammed into Sam's jaw, rocking the younger Winchester backwards as Dean tumbled away. He grabbed hold of a church pew and drew himself up on shaky legs, still coughing blood, each breath feeling like he was trying to breathe through gravy. " All…those…demon powers…and y-you…still…have s-shitty a-aim, Sammy."

Sam sat up, tasting blood in his mouth, disbelief all over his face. " How?? How the hell are you standing?"

" D-demon blood…little…brother." Dean grinned, his teeth stained pink with blood. He grimaced a moment later, pressing a hand to his chest as though he had heart burn, another series of coughs shaking him and causing blood to spill from his lips. " Still…hurts…like a bitch….though."

Sam tried to bring his gun up again, his had shaking this time. Dean launched himself at Sam, the pair tumbling across the floor before the slid to a halt, Dean straddling his brother and slamming another fist into his jaw. " Where's Skye?"

" Huh? Skye?"

Dean grabbed Sam by the lapels and slammed him into the floor. " WHERE IS SHE?!" His shouting cost Dean dearly, a deep set cough erupting in his chest that felt like sledgehammer blows to his ribs. The wound was already healing, but the pain was immense, his eyes glassy as he struggled to breath. Sam took the opportunity to get in a punch of his own, before he drew his legs up and kicked his brother off him.

With the heightened strength Sam now had, Dean flew down the church aisle and slammed into the alter, collapsing the wooden structure and snapping several ribs in the process.

Sam got to his feet, taking a moment to spit out a mouthful of blood before he walked towards Dean. His anger was flaring now, the darkness in him singing at the rage and injustice he felt. He knew what this was about, although how Skye fit in, was a mystery to Sam. " So what….it's time, huh, Dean? Time for you to follow Dad's order and take me out? Take down the threat before the Demon can make me one of the bad guys?"

" You are the enemy, Sammy…you said it yourself, the Demon's been calling you, dude.." Dean groaned, rolling to his knees, one arm tucked in around his ribs, feeling them shift and grate under his skin like razor blades.

That made Sam pause in mid stride, surprised. " How…how would you know that?" His face darkened with anger again. " You inheriting a few demon abilities yourself now, Dean? It's not so black and white anymore, is it? I'm not evil, Dean. Dad was wrong…he's the one who became evil. You saw him in the barn…he's not even human anymore!" Sam yelled.

" Neither are you, Sam!" Dean snapped. " Hell, neither am I! But I'm not about to be a freaking foot soldier of the son of a bitch that killed Mom!"

Sam growled angrily, throwing Dean backwards with a sharp flick of his head, watching his brother slam into the wall beside the wooden crucifix, pinned there helplessly as Sam stalked up to him until they were face to face. " I'm no-one's foot soldier. No Dad's…not the Demon's. No-one. You hear me?"

" Loud and clear." Dean spat back at his brother with a sneer. " You always were a selfish son of a bitch." The words held enough sting to make Sam's anger white hot, causing him to lose concentration on the force holding Dean. He whipped his head forward, slamming it into Sam's with a brutal crack that dropped both brothers for a moment, before Dean caught Sam with a hard right hook, then buried his fist into his stomach.

Sam doubled over, the air whooshing from his lungs as he folded around Dean's fist. He was pulled upright again by Dean, his brother cocking back his fist and preparing to slam it into Sam's face again. " Last chance, Sammy, before I start asking your friend over there questions the hard way…where's Skye?"

" I don't know…" Sam's head rolled back, his eyes glassy. It cut right to Dean's heart, his eyes filling with tears as he looked at Sam's face…his baby brother. Why was he doing this? Why was he making things so hard? Why the hell were they being forced into this? " Then tell me why you let the Demon win! I died for you, Sam!" Dean dragged his brother close, his lips curled up angrily as he looked him in the eye. " I died so that you'd be safe…and you let him win anyway! You're no better than Max Miller or Ansem Weems! We were going to fight this, Sammy! You were supposed to fight it! Prove Dad wrong, remember?"

Sam reached out and pressed his thumb into the healing bullet wound on Dean's chest. His brother arched backwards, a ragged cry of pain bursting from him as his hands locked around Sam's wrist and tried to pry him away from the wound as it bled anew. It was like a knife in his chest, the wound tearing before Dean threw a wild punch that connected with Sam's temple and broke the younger Winchester's grip.

They tumbled away from each other, then spun around, circling each other warily like a pair of wolves.

" Come on, Sam…just tell me what you've done with Skye. At least tell me you haven't hurt her?" Dean asked, taking slow steps backwards as his brother followed, neither of them lowering their guard for an instant.

" What are you talking about? I haven't seen Skye since the last time we visited her, Dean. Why would I hurt her?" Sam asked, frowning slightly. What the hell kind of ploy was this? Was he trying to catch Sam off guard by asking bizarre questions? His mind slipped back to the dream he'd had of Dean, how excited his brother had been, talking about Skye and Connor. What could have happened? And why the hell did Dean think he was involved?

Dean was trying to read Sam's face, trying to work out if he was lying? Sam had always been uncomfortable with lying, but he'd gotten better at it over time and if the Yellow Eyed Demon had been schooling his little brother at all? If Sam was going darkside on him? Then Dean wasn't sure he would know if Sam was telling the truth or not.

A frightened gasp beside him, caught Dean's attention and out of the corner of his eye, he spied Elise, watching from behind a pew. He moved like lightning, grabbing the girl and dragging her to his feet, his arm locked around her throat, choking her. Elise's hands flew up, clawing at the arm that had cut off her air supply. " I'll snap her neck, Sam!"

" No!" Sam rushed forward, but stopped as he saw Dean tighten his grip around Elise's throat. " Dean…please, don't."

" Just tell me where Skye is." Dean growled desperately. " You stole her, Sam. Connor saw you do it. Missouri saw it too. You came in and this…this bitch," Dean shook Elise in his grasp, listening to her struggling to draw a breath. " She was controlling demons. Used them to take Skye from me…from Connor."

" Dean, listen to yourself. You're not making any sense!" Sam pleaded, his hands up, trying to placate his brother. He could throw Dean backwards, take his brother down without even having to lay a finger on him, but Sam didn't want to do that. Dean wasn't the enemy. He was scared, confused. "I haven't been anywhere near Skye, neither has Elise. Whatever you've been told is wrong." Sam moved forward then, one step at a time. " Dean. You know me. You know me better than anyone else ever could. You know I'd never hurt Skye. Please…just let Elise go. She hasn't done anything wrong, Dean. She's just a girl I met. She's not a demon. Please? Please, Dean…I'm begging you now. "

Sam continued to walk forward, until he was close enough to see Elise's lips were turning blue, her eyes starting to roll up in her head. " It's just me, Dean. Sam. Let her go. I don't want to fight you anymore…."

Dean's grip faltered as he watched Sam, wanting to believe, needing to believe. This was his Sammy, his little brother. Not some demon, not a threat. Dad was wrong, Missouri was wrong. Dean knew his brother, had always believed with his heart and soul that Sam would never turn, would never become what his father had warned him about. Sam's eyes couldn't hide who he was. They were the window to the soul and all Dean could see before him was the brother he had been looking for all this time.

A tear slipped from one eye as Dean released Elise and stepped back. She slipped to her knees before Sam rushed forward and caught her, holding her close while she sucked in air greedily, the colour slowly returning to her face. " It's okay…it's okay, I've got you."

" Sammy…" Dean spoke up at last, the name spoken as both an apology and a prayer of thanks for the fact he had his brother back again.

" It's good to see you too, Dean." Sam said softly, making sure Elise was alright before he helped her stand and took a step towards his brother. Dean moved forward and hugged Sam, the pair of them grimacing in pain as their various injuries protested. It was a moment that both brothers had thought lost forever…..

The church doors crashed open violently as John sailed across the room, both Winchesters instantly turning towards the sound as Sam reached for Elise and pulled her behind him. Crashing into a row of pews and shattering through them, John hit the ground and rolled over, bleeding and broken, trying to get to his knees but failing.

" Dad!" Dean made to move towards him, until Sam caught him by the crook of his arm. Looking at his brother in confusion, Dean tried to pull his arm free. " Sam, it's Dad! It's _Dad._" Dean stated again to clarify. He broke free and ran towards John, skidding to his knees beside him. " Dad, hey…"

John rolled on his back and looked up at Dean with glassy, unfocussed eyes, blood running from the corner of his mouth and dripping from a gash at his hair line. " Get…get out of here. Run, Dean…" John pressed a .45 into Dean's hands. " Take your brother and run…"

Through the church doorway, taking advantage of the fact that John's bodily entrance had broken the salt lines, four demons entered. They were dressed in army fatigues, one of the four heading towards Dean and John while the other three approached Sam and Elise.

" Got a message for you, Sam." The lead demon, a name patch on his shirt front showing him as Atwell, smiled.

Sam was slowly backing up towards the small room Elise had exited before, pushing her behind him. The room had a ring of salt around it, offering Elise more protection than she was going to find out here. " Get in, bar the door." Sam whispered to her before he gave Elise one last push towards the room. The moment the door was closed, Sam moved away, heading back towards the front of the church, leading them away. " Oh yeah? What kind of a message."

Dean was already bringing the gun to bear on the demon – this one's badge read McGregor - approaching them. He felt his father pull himself into a sitting position beside him. " Dammit, Dean, get the hell out of here! That's an order."

" No, sir."

" That gun's not going to do anything other than piss it off, Dean!" John growled, dragging a hand across his mouth and bringing it away bloody. The demons had caught him by surprise outside and whaled the holy hell out of him, snapping ribs and slamming punch after punch into John before they had used him as a battering ram. His vision was sliding in and out of focus, his left eye closing up already into a bruised, swollen mass.

" Maybe. But it might slow it down at least." Dean dropped his aim and shot off a round, taking out McGregor's knee in a spray of blood and bone. The demon went down hard with a snarl, his hands out to brace his fall as his head snapped up towards Dean and John. The gun was suddenly ripped from Dean's hands and tossed into the pews, out of reach.

Atwell was still advancing on Sam's position, flanked by the other two demons, Rodriguez and Williams. " You screwed up, Sammy. You had everything set to be handed to you on a silver platter and you threw it away. For what? Family?" He looked over towards Dean and John in disgust.

" I don't expect a demon to know what that means.." Sam said icily. " Was that your message?"

" Oh no, Sam. No. The message is? That you're no longer needed. You've proven too much of a liability. There are others more than willing to take your place. What…did you think you were the only big shot? The favored pet? Not anymore. " Atwell smiled coldly. He cocked his head to the side and spoke to Sam with the tone of an adult speaking to a child. " We've been sent to clean up the mess."

Sam heard a pained cry, his attention drawn to Dean and their father. The distraction cost Sam dearly as he was charged by Atwell and slammed to the floor. The demon smashed a fist into Sam's jaw, blood spraying as his teeth caught his lip. Atwell landed punch after punch to Sam, watching skin split, blood spill. Each blow was like an anvil hitting Sam, stunning him, pain exploding through his face. Where was Dean? Dean would save him….right? But as another cry ripped through the air, a chill gripped Sam's stomach.

Dean was pinned to floor beside his father, trying not to scream as though his ribs were being pulled apart, his intestines bring shredded. The pain became to much, Dean letting out a rough, agonized cry, his whole body shaking.

" Dean! Goddamn it!" John yelled, panic rushing through his body as he fought helplessly to be able to move. "Leave him alone, you bastard!"

" Don't worry, Johnnie…he's not the only one going out screaming." McGregor turned his attention to John and watched him cry out, twisting his head from side to side helplessly.

John felt his like his brain was boiling in his skull, blood running from his eyes and nose.

" Dad! Dad!" Dean gasped through his own pain, tasting blood and feeling it spill over his lips to pool on his shirtfront. He'd been given a brief respite, but only because the demon was content to let him suffer, watching his father bleed and scream beside him. Dammit, this wasn't how his family was supposed to go out. Dean had just found his father and brother again, he had Connor to look after, Skye to save.

All thought was gone as Dean watched his father's eyes roll back his head and John slump to the side. " DAD! No! You son of a-…..argghhhhh!!" The pain shot through his nerves endings like acid, his whole body on flame from the inside out as McGregor turned on Dean again. The scream that tore itself from his throat echoed throughout the church.

Atwell drove a fist into Sam's nose, shattering it, before he sat back on Sam's legs, looking down at the limp, bloodied figure below him. " Get him up." He got to his feet and stood back as Rodriguez and William's dragged Sam upright, holding him between them as Sam's head lolled forward, blood dripping in a pool beneath him. " I think it time we made an example of this wannabe…drag his ass to the crucifix…."

" Sammy!" Dean's voice was wracked with pain, wet with blood as he pleaded desperately. " I swear…you bastards touch him again…"

" You'll what? Looks to me like you're not exactly in a position to do much of anything, Winchester…." Atwell laughed, hearing the others sniggering as they tore the statue of Jesus down and prepared to lift Sam up onto the wooden structure.

The demons paused as Sam lifted his head slowly, surprised to see the boy had the strength to move at all. Sam's eyes shone with golden flecks that danced almost like flames as he threw Rodriguez and Williams' away from him.

" You should have left my family alone…" Sam said darkly as he rose up to his full height. Every window in the church shattered, pews being tossed aside like they were made from paper mache before the four demons exploded, the bodies they had stolen simply vanishing like blood filled balloons. Quiet fell over the church again, Sam stumbling down to where Dean and their father still lay on the floor, unmoving. " Dean…Dean, you okay?" He pulled Dean into his arms, seeing the blood dripping from his mouth. Tears filled Sam's eyes as he recalled the barn. " Come on, dude…please, just open your eyes and look at me."

" If I do, you promise not to make my head explode like a piñata?" Dean coughed, his eyes slowly opening to show green slivers at first, then sliding open fully to look up Sam, a tired grin following. " Shit, Sammy…Remind me to keep you on our side, huh?"

" Does that mean I get to pick the music from now on?"

" You wish. House rules still apply, bitch." Dean chuckled, the laugh becoming a wet cough. Sam helped his brother sit up more, his hand on his shoulder, watching him carefully. " How's Dad?"

" I've been better…" John groaned, sitting up in staggered movements, one hand held to his left eye where the swelling had become dark with bruising. " But I'll live." He could see Sam watching him warily. " Hey, Sammy."

" Dad…is that really you?"

" Yeah." John nodded, regretting the move as his head started throbbing again, a grimace twisting his face. " More or less…it's a long story. How about I tell you over breakfast?"

Sam nodded, finding a smile appearing. He stood up and held out a hand to Dean, pulling his brother carefully to his feet before the pair of them helped John up. All three Winchesters were standing, reveling in the fact that they had survived, that their family was together again, when a soft voice spoke up in awe and broke the silence.

" Pro Hart…eat your fucking heart out." Elise saw three very confused faces looking in her direction and shrugged her shoulders. " It's an Aussie thing…"

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" So Sammy…you finally picking up a few things from me?" Dean nudged his brother gently in the ribs as they all limped back through town towards the cars. He waggled his eyebrows at Sam and nodded his head towards Elise.

Sam rolled his eyes, but laughed, realizing that Dean would never change and that was something he was actually glad to see. The whole world was going to Hell, but Dean's mind was always on the nicer things in life. " It's not like that, Dean."

" Really? Cause she's into you, dude…" Dean winked at his brother, then frowned. " Don't tell me you haven't noticed?"

" Dean!" Sam shot his brother a look to shut him up and gave Elise an awkward smile when she looked over at the pair. John was talking to her, being polite and trying to find out every bit of intel he could about where she was from, what they had seen in their travels, what she knew about Sam. " So since when did Dad learn to talk to people and not interrogate them?"

Dean shrugged. " Lot of things have changed, Sammy. The man went to Hell…guess that's enough to change anyone. Trust me, he's still Dad." They walked in silence for a few minutes, picking up the occasional word of conversation between John and Elise before Sam spoke. " Dean…about what happened back there, me shooting you.."

" Forget it, Sam."

" No, Dean, I can't just forget it. I could have killed you!"

" Yeah well, you didn't." Dean stated sharply. He saw Sam's mouth open to argue further and held up a hand to stop him. " Sam…I'm fine. You're okay. Things were fucked up back there. We both had our heads on all wrong. But it's done, okay? It's over. Just let it go. I'm not in the mood for any of your emo brooding over it….I got you back. That's all that matters. " Again, Sam looked about to argue and Dean narrowed his eyes at him. " Dude, I mean it. Let. It. Go."

" So what now?" Sam asked after displaying his patented bitch face for a moment.

" Now?" Dean cocked an eyebrow thoughtfully. " We shag ass out of here and find Skye. I just don't know where to begin looking…"

The click of a hammer being cocked made them all pause, Dean sidestepping to place himself in front of Sam without thinking. Bobby stepped out of the shadows, still aiming his revolver at them. " Just hold it right there." His aim shifted between Sam and Elise, watching the pair like hawks.

" Bobby, put the gun down. It's just us, Bobby." Dean had his hands up, speaking gently.

John stepped forward, noting the way Bobby's eyes narrowed at him. " Go get the holy water out of the trunk, Bobby. I'm too tired to argue this with you right now. You want proof that Sam's himself? You'll get it."

One round of holy water later, with only John refraining due the fact it wouldn't agree with his demon side, Bobby was finally assuaged about Sam and Elise. He shrugged at Sam. " No hard feelings, Sam. But after what Missouri saw…"

" No, it's okay, Bobby. I understand." Sam nodded. " It pays to be cautious these days."

" Dee! Dee back!"

Dean turned to see Missouri approaching, Connor squirming in her arms until she finally gave up and put the toddler down. He rushed towards Dean and flung his arms around Dean's legs, hugging him tightly. Bending down, Dean grabbed Connor by the ankles and playfully picked him up, upside down, before flipping him upright again and cuddling Connor as he giggled, burrowing into Dean's neck. " Easy, Tiger. I'm a little sore still."

Connor pulled back and looked at Dean, lifting the amulet still around his neck. " Dee want back? Keep monsters away."

Dean slipped the amulet from Connor's neck and slipped it back over his own head, finding it's tiny weight a familiar feel that he had missed. It was part of him. " Thanks, little dude. I'm definitely getting you one of your own."

" That's Connor?" Sam stepped up with Elise, surprised to see how much the little boy had grown. He froze as Connor's face crumpled and the little boy began to cry, twisting away to hide against Dean.

" Bad 'ammy! Go away!"

Dean tried to gently make Connor sit up. " Connor, no…it's oka-.."

" Dean." Sam shook his head at his brother, cutting him off. " Leave it. It's okay. We don't know exactly what he saw…it might take some time."

Dean frowned, hating the situation. Connor had always loved his brother, they'd played together, Dean had watched Sam read stories to Connor while the little boy listened intently. To see nothing but fear on Connor's face now in Sam's presence was heartbreaking for Dean. " Come on…let's hit the road.

They piled into the two cars, Sam letting Elise sit next to Connor in the back. The fact the little boy didn't look at her with any but curiosity only confirmed the fact Sam was innocent.

" Dean. If the Demon has Skye, I know where she is. He'll have her close by him." Sam said, meeting his brother's gaze in the rearview mirror. " South Wyoming."

Popping a cassette in the tapedeck, Dean turned up the stereo as ACDC's Highway to Hell began to play, a smirk appearing. " No cops, no speed limit…let's see what my baby can do…"

The Impala spat gravel out as she roared out of the town limits and ate up the highway effortlessly, ACDC blaring into the early morning light as it broke over the horizon.

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	14. Epilogue

**Medicine Bow, South Wyoming…..**

Andy could see her the moment he entered the basement. Skye was curled up in the corner, not moving, just staring at the walls with hollow eyes. He approached slowly, the way you would approach a spooked animal. Each footstep soft, his entire body language none threatening. " Hey…. Hey, you okay there?"

Nothing. Skye wouldn't even look at him. What the hell had he done? What had Ava done? Why hadn't he done more to stand up to her. God, he was pathetic. He sucked at this whole evil thing and it was going to get him killed if he wasn't careful. Big Yellow didn't really stand for anyone screwing things up and that's all Andy seemed to do lately.

Venturing forward a little more, he hesitated for a moment , then sat down beside Skye. " I'm Andy." He offered a brief, shy smile at her, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction from her, but there was still nothing. It was like staring at a hollow shell, until he leaned a little closer and finally caught the sight of a single tear slipping out of the side of her eye, only to hit the dirt and vanish. His smile reappeared and widened then, relief flooding through his veins and making him feel giddy for a moment, as if he'd taken one hell of a hit from a bong. But the relief was quickly dampened as he realised he was the cause of that tear. " Hey… I'm not here to hurt you. I promise. I just….I just wanted to say I was sorry. For what we did before. It…it was nothing personal. Honest. "

Still nothing. Not a flicker of life in the face, in the eyes. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of her chest, Andy would think he was sat next to a corpse.

" Cute kid."

There was a flicker of movement. Skye's gaze met Andy's for a brief second, then looked away again.

" Really. I felt really bad scary him like that. But I'll bet Dean's taking good care of him. He sure was protective of Sam when I first met them, can't see him being anything less for Connor, know? He's got that whole big brother things working overtime. Although not quite as overtime as Ansem did. Man, he really was a freak…" Andy said, sadness touching his words towards the end. This so wasn't working out the way Andy wanted it to. All he'd wanted was to offer some comfort, make sure Skye was okay. It had bugged the hell out of him, taking her away from the kid like that, especially since he'd been forced to frame Sam for it. The Winchesters had been good to him, had helped him save Tracey from his crazy ass twin brother. Andy hadn't signed on to help end the world. He just wanted to live out his life, un-noticed, getting whatever he wanted with his abilities. That didn't make him a bad guy…right?

Looking back down at Skye, he could see she was closed off again, that hollowness back in her eyes. They looked dead, lost. Andy couldn't bear seeing her that way. He'd heard Ava laughing earlier with Jake and Lily about what she'd told Skye, how she'd reacted. It was cruel and sick.

" Look, I'm gonna show you something, but you have to keep quiet, okay? Cause if Ava or the others find out what I'm doing? My ass is grass. They'll turn me into Big Yellow as soon as you can blink and then we're both in big trouble. So you have be quiet…okay?" Andy leaned down a little and tried to see if Skye would acknowledge him in the slightest. There wasn't even the slightest blink in his direction. " I'm gonna take that as a yes."

He took hold of Skye's hand, linking his fingers through hers without any resistance. This had to work, he had to give back the hope that had been stolen from her. " I've been working on this for a while now. It started out with me just being able to send thoughts to people, then it became images. Now?" Andy gave a small goofy grin and shrugged casually. " I'm able to be like some sort of weird conduit. Anyway…I just hope this works. I'm still kinda fine tuning it…so I'm sorry if it hurts."

Closing his eyes, Andy opened his mind and gently touched on Skye's, tapping into her thoughts and using them as the base for his contact…..

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Connor was switching his attention between looking at the window and staring at Elise next to him, his feet kicking lightly as the music continued to thump through the car and kill any chance of conversation between John, the boys and Elise.

" Mommy?" Connor suddenly looked thoughtful.

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, turning down the music. " You say something, little buddy?"

" Mommy!" A tiny trickle of blood slipped from the little boy's nose and ran down his lip.

" What the hell?" Dean went to swivel in his seat to get a better look, when a blinding headache slammed into his, his eyes squeezing shut in agony as he clapped a hand to his forehead. " Gah!!….Dad, take the wheel!"

John leaned over immediately and grabbed hold off the wheel, steering them towards the side of the road as Dean blindly hit the brakes to stop them. The moment the Impala was pulled over, Dean hunched over the wheel, his forehead touching the hardened leather of the steering wheel as blood began to drip from his nose.

" Dean! Dude, you alright? You with me?" John demanded, his hand reaching over to squeeze the back of Dean's neck.

_The words were fading out as Dean saw Skye in his mind, laying curled up in some kind of basement. She wasn't hurt and for the briefest moment, she sat up and looked straight at him, tears appearing in her eyes. He could sense her relief at seeing him, feeling it flood through his veins. God it was good to see her. Know she was alive, unharmed. Dean wanted to tell her he was coming for her, that she was going to see Connor again soon. More than anything, he wanted to touch her…knowing he couldn't. A voice was calling to him…and Dean felt the connection breaking, pulling away as he called out to Skye._

" Dean!" This time it was Sam's voice, lined with full blown panic, his hand reaching over the backseat to rest on his brother's shoulder.

Dean sat back, blinking slowly and touching a hand to the blood on his lip, feeling the headache slowly fading. He turned in his seat as he heard a soft snuffling cry from Connor and found the little boy staring at him with sad eyes and blood dripping from his nose. " Mommy all gone."

" I know…I know, little dude. We'll see her soon, okay?" Dean gave the little boy a shaky smile, then hunted around in the front of the Impala for something to clean Connor up with, settling for some diner napkins that had been stashed in the glove box. He handed the napkin to Elise. " Do you mind?"

" Sure, mate…" Elise nodded, taking the napkin and gently dabbing it to Connor's top lip and nose with a reassuring smile for the boy.

" Dean, what the hell was that?" John demanded, watching his son carefully, concerned.

" I don't know. I saw Skye…."

" You saw her? Like a vision?" Sam asked, surprised.

Dean looked at his brother as though he was insane. " What? No! I'm not some psychic freak…I don't know what it was…"

"It sounds like a vision, Dean and it sounds like Connor had it too." Sam argued quietly.

" Yeah well, I don't know, Sammy. But I saw her…I have to find her, dude." Dean turned the key in the ignition again, feeling the Impala thrum into life beneath him.

" We will, Dean. " Sam told his brother, sitting back in his seat and looking at Elise. He felt her hand brush against his and without hesitation, let her hand link with his. " We will."

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Skye was sat up now, still trying to take in what had just happened. She looked at Andy, still feeling the blood dripping from her nose as he pulled out a hankerchief and offered it to her.

" Sorry about the blood nose…like I said, I'm still fine tuning it." He gave her an apologetic smile.

" That was real? What I saw then? It was real? My son? Dean?"

" Yeah. I told you, Dean's probably taking good care of him." Andy glanced towards the door that lead out of the basement. " I should get going. Big Yellow is gonna be sending Ava down here soon to get you."

" Why?"

" Huh?"

" Why would you show me that? Why are you being so nice to me?"

" I'm not a bad guy. At least, I don't want to be. Me…Sam….we just got caught up in all this, you know? We didn't choose to be freaks. That was the Demon. He made us this way but that doesn't mean we have to like it." Andy told her, getting to his feet. " Look, I have to go. But I'm gonna do what I can to look after you."

" The others won't like that." Skye warned him, feeling sorry for Andy. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

Andy shrugged and gave a small, nervous laugh. " You know? I just don't care anymore. I'm not like them, never was." The smile that graced his lips was sad as he thought once again of his brother and how twisted Ansem had been. What would it have been like to have a brother like Sam or Dean? Would things have been different?

Skye watched Andy disappear up the stairs and a moment later, she was alone again in the basement, wondering what they planned on doing with her? Why Andy and Sam were able to fight what they had been made into…while the others had embraced it?

A smile appeared as Skye thought about Dean and Connor. They were together, safe. She had seen John and Sam there too. Dean had his brother and father with him and she knew, nothing would harm her son now. It gave her the courage to hold on.

Because Dean was coming. She knew that now. And when he found her? The Yellow Eyed Demon was so screwed……

**The End….**

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_A/N: Phew!! And finally, it's done!! Thanks so very, very, very much to everyone who has been reading this story and left reviews! You guys have been the driving force behind this being completed. And a huge thanks to Tara for all her help with this story. Love ya, mate!! I owe you big time. HUGS_

_ Stay tuned for the final story in this trilogy…Amen…Chapter one, coming soon!_


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